


honey, there is no right way

by myoonki



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: EXO is featured, Enjoy!, Like, M/M, Record shop, Slow Burn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, anyway, baekhyun and chanyeol are married, but not an interesting one, depends on my mood, everyone loves jimin, i might also change the rating, i say "white boys" like im not a white boy wow, i'll edit the tags right after i edit my life, in chapter 8 but they're not a couple, ive changed the rating on this like 4 times already and nothing inappropriate has even happened wow, min yoongi isn't shy he's just quiet, namjin - Freeform, ok i dont think we're supposed 2 use this many tags, one of my friends yelled at me for adding, plot plot plot, so so so so SO slow burn, surprise! i also don't know how to tag, the boy from the rain, they're just roommates, they're literally the reason white boys go "no homo", theyre the "two bros chillin in a hot tub five feet apart cause theyre not gay" vine, you might set me on fire (bts)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 76,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoonki/pseuds/myoonki
Summary: min yoongi owns a record shop and he falls in love with the boy from the rain.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first story i've ever published. i'd like to thank my friends for their help so far, and all help to come in the future.

Min Yoongi was not a man of many words. He made a habit out of being quiet, only making a move to speak when absolutely necessary. It was for this reason that his record shop was not flooding with customers.  
  
It wasn’t that he was unfriendly, but he never offered more than a nonchalant wave or half-assed smile when a customer walked in. He helped them out if they had questions, but he left the customers to their own device as they browsed the section of music.  
  
Yoongi had worked hard to get his store. His family hadn’t been that supportive of his love for music, so every last ounce of work that took to build this shop up was the result of his own efforts. He had raised all of the funds on his own after working for nearly a decade of jobs he didn’t enjoy, and once he did end up saving enough to afford a five-year lease in advance, he spent months redoing the shop from top to bottom, investing in a decent collection of records to fill the small outlet.  
  
The part of the shop Yoongi had been most proud of originally was the small studio that had he had built in the back. He had intended to start working on his own music, but over time he found himself too caught up with keeping the bills paid and food on the table that he didn’t often happen to stumble upon any inspiration. The room was now a mess, the most used object in the room a couch that he often fell asleep on. Every surface was either covered in dust, empty take-out boxes, stacks of papers and bills, or all of the above.  
  
The shop was generally quiet. The only customers that happened to stop by were either regulars, who were familiar with Yoongi’s persona, or people who just happened to be on lazy strolls and bothered to stick their heads in for a quick browse before they were on their way again. Yoongi never really found much offense to it, as records obviously weren’t the most popular form of listening to music these days, and he was always a fan of the peace and quiet. Since having already saved every ounce of money possible from his previous jobs, he did have a lot of elbow room to work around and still managed to keep his shop and small apartment paid for. He didn’t invest much time or space into his apartment, as he spent most nights on the couch in the studio. He only went back to his apartment when he was in desperate need of a shower or to pick up his bills. Despite how small and simple he lived, he showed a great amount of humble pride for what he had accomplished so far. He didn’t crave for anything else.  
  
Yoongi’s fingers drummed against the counter top in the corner of the small space, easily matching the beat of the song playing as the clock neared closing time. He didn’t have any employees, so he ran the shop on his own. If he ever had to leave for an appointment of sorts, the whole shop had to be closed up until he returned. It wasn’t as if closing time even meant anything to him. He was free to do whatever he wanted in the shop, and should anyone ever come in at closing time it didn’t bother him if they took their time browsing. He appreciated the interest of his customers and it’s not like it was a far walk to the couch in the back once every customer was done for the day.  
  
He looked around at the walls, contemplating maybe changing some of the art up a bit. Every now and then when his profits were higher than usual, he liked to spoil himself with a little redecorating of the shop, however, 'redecorating' for Yoongi meant buying more shelves to store more music and of course, _buying more music_. He really couldn’t complain, he got to be around music all day and should inspiration ever strike, he had everything he needed to actually do anything with his strokes of genius (not that they ever did come to him).  
  
It wasn’t long to closing time. He had about twelve minutes before he could start to expect no one else to enter, but by his luck, this was one of those days where someone decided to come inside as the minute hand tugged to finish it’s final cycle around the clock to mark its final work hour of the day. The chime from the door being pushed open pulled him from his daze and he looked up to see a small boy in the doorway, rubbing his feet off on the entry mat. Water was dripping from his coat and Yoongi couldn’t help but watch as the water trailed down with gravity to the floor, some of it missing the mat completely and getting his floor. _Great, now he’d have to mop the floors._  
  
"Hi!" the boy called out to Yoongi, his voice mixed with frustration and cheer as he pulled the hood of his coat off his head, revealing his dry head except for a few strands in the front that had not been fully protected from the rain. No one Yoongi knew would be happy about the rain. Yoongi wondered if his voice just naturally rang with bells, or if there was something wrong with this boy that caused him to be pleased with the foul weather.  
  
"You can hang your coat there," Yoongi replied, not even bothering to return a proper greeting as he pointed to the coat hanger just to the left of the boy. "That way you don’t get all of my floors soaked with dirty rain water." His words may not have been completely polite, but his voice was by no means harsh. He spoke as if he were asking him what his favorite dish to eat was.  
  
The boy gave him a courteous smile, being careful not to let the water fling around as he unbuttoned his coat. He held it over the mat for a few moments, giving it a little shake to let most of the water fall onto the dark material of the carpet rather than let it all fall around the coat hanger. He hung it neatly on the hook, giving his feet a few more drags against the mat to make sure he wouldn’t make more of a mess than necessary before he stepped out onto the hard floor. With the coat off, his dark jeans were revealed and never in his life will Yoongi admit to staring at his thighs clutched tightly by the black material. His top was a different story. Where the boy’s legs were thick with muscle, his torso was thin, hidden beneath the fabrications of a baggy shirt that did wonders in exposing his collarbones.

 _No one’s saying Yoongi stared at the boy as he made his way through the shop, but Yoongi was definitely staring at the boy as he made his way through the shop._  
  
The boy seemed kinda lost. He took a few seconds scanning each record as if he was trying to figure out what he was even looking at before moving onto the next one and repeating the same process. After a while, Min Yoongi looked at the clock. It was now two minutes until close and the boy from the rain hadn’t even finished looking at one shelf, and he still had several more to go before he even got to the records set up in the center of the store. By this point, Yoongi figured the boy was just using this as an excuse to get out of the rain.  
  
"Do you live nearby?" Yoongi eventually asked, trying to get a gauge of how long it was going to be before he got to catch a couple hours of sleep. He didn’t really want to go home in this rain, but if he wasn’t going to go home now that meant he’d have to wake up a bit earlier to go home for a quick shower before opening the shop in the morning. He really needed to change shirts and maybe throw some into the washing machine. He kept a pile of shirts in the studio that he tended to cycle through until the smell of them became too noticeable to continue to wear without going through the wash.  
  
Rain boy turned around to look at him, a record clutched in his hand and his face twisted in confusion before a wave of guilt washed over his face. "Uh, yeah. Close enough. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be wasting your time, I’m sure you’d like to go home. I didn’t think I’d be this long. I wanted to try something new, but I’m afraid I know very little about music."  
  
"Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll just crash on the couch in the back as soon as you leave, most likely," Yoongi sighed as he slipped off from the stool and stepped out from behind the counter. He walked over to the shelf across the store, stopping just a couple feet away from the boy. "Do you have any idea of what you’re looking for? I can help you find something, maybe."  
  
"Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t recognize any of these names," the boy confessed as he looked down at the record in his hands. "This is an American artist?"  
  
Yoongi looked down at the record in the boy’s hands and shook his head. "Hozier? No, he’s from Ireland, I’m pretty sure. That’s folk pop that you’re holding right there. Do you like western music? All of the records along the wall are from western countries."  
  
The boy took in what he was saying, meeting Yoongi’s eyes to show he was clearly listening. He set it neatly back on the shelf, all the while his shoulders shrugging. The dip at his collarbones deepened out as he lifted his shoulders, the bones accentuating. Had Yoongi been paying attention to the boy instead of scanning his eyes over the shelf, he probably would have noticed the flush growing on the boy’s cheeks creeping down the sides of his neck.  
  
"I— I have no clue. Honestly, I’d have a better chance at picking something blindfolded and liking it than trying to pretend I know what any of this is and hoping I happen to like it." He was embarrassed that he wasn’t that educated when it came to music. It didn’t make much difference at parties when he was far too busy dancing and chatting with his friends, but here he was walking into a music shop. He began to wonder if he would have been as embarrassed if he had walked the few extra yards down to the book shop a few doors down.  
  
"Well, I mean… you can try something, and if you don’t like it you can bring it back," Yoongi crouched down to the ground so he could look at the lower shelves, trying to find a certain album.  
  
"Would your boss let you do that? I don’t want to get you in trouble."  
  
"I mean, considering I am the boss…" Yoongi pulled an album out without even looking at him. He stood up and stretched his legs out, too tired for physical activity at this moment. He made a mental note to start doing some leg exercises, and he quickly made another mental note to ignore that first one completely. Exercise sounds ridiculous. "I own this shop, I can make whatever rules I want." Yoongi looked down at the album in his hand, contemplating it for a quick moment before handing it over to the boy. "Here, you can try this. Tupac is old school, but you might like it. I can’t quite tell if you’re more of the bubble gum pop kind of kid or if you’re into some heavy, dirty shit."  
  
The boy took the record from Yoongi and looked it over, flipping it around to the other side to see if he recognized any of the songs printed on the back. Unfortunately, he didn’t. He’d have to take Yoongi’s word for it.  
  
"I guess I’ll get this," he finally resolved. They made their way back to the counter and Yoongi didn’t even bother getting back on the stool this time as he slipped back around the counter. Rain boy with the thighs set the record on the counter top as Yoongi began to punch in the total to his computer and not another word was spoken through the entire transaction.  
  
The boy from the rain thanked him as Yoongi handed him over the record in a bag and Yoongi watched him as he put his coat on, noticing the features on his face scrunching up as he prepared himself to run back out into the rain that had only thickened during his time in the shop, leaving Yoongi to stare at the small puddles of water still sitting by the door.

 

* * *

 

If you asked Yoongi years down the road if he minded the rain from their first meeting, he’d say yes. He would not admit to having ever grown fond of their original meeting over their time together throughout the years. That just wasn’t who Yoongi was.  
  
He was sure he would never see the boy again after he didn’t show for a solid week.  
  
On the first night he left, Yoongi settled on drying the water up with a rag instead of mopping the floors. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for his shop, but he just much preferred for a quick fix so he could get some sleep before waking up at some horrific hour of the morning to clean himself off. He’d shut all the lights off, locked the doors, and turned the music down in the main part of the store, leaving it set at a low level in the studio just for him to here. He didn’t need to attract attention to his shop at that hour of the night. He wasn’t even sure if it was legal for him to be sleeping there.  
  
In the morning, he all but smashed the alarm clock to pieces as it ripped him from his dream. Like many boys, he woke up with a problem, but unlike many boys, he didn’t even consider fixing it. He grabbed a few of the shirts within reach, his keys to the shop, and made sure all the doors were locked before beginning the ten-minute walk down the street to his apartment. He’d like to say he made it in record time, but his usual ten-minute-walk ended up more around fifteen minutes.

He put absolutely no effort into climbing the stairs to his apartment on the fourth floor, which added about another three minutes longer than necessary it took to get from his couch at the shop to his door at his apartment complex. He threw the shirts on the floor in front of the laundry room, not even bothering to actually throw them in the load and he most certainly did not even consider actually starting the said load. He dug around in his hamper in the bathroom, finally settling on a shirt that he hadn’t worn in a couple weeks and a pair of ripped jeans. They hadn’t been ripped when he got them, but after his years of neglect for his clothes, it wasn’t that shocking to come across an item of clothing that was torn or ruined in some fashion or another. The boy didn’t come into his shop at all that day, which he didn’t give much thought. It would take someone more than a day to figure out if they really appreciated an album enough to keep it or not.  
  
On the second day, he still didn’t think much of it. Rain boy probably had a life, it’s not like he had signed any testimony to say he would come in after a certain amount of time to return it, and Yoongi most certainly had not given him a time limit on how long he had to return it. For all he knew, he hadn’t even really listened to it, and it might be another few days before he could even begin to expect any form of appearance from him.  
  
He held the same mindset on days three and four.  
  
On day five Yoongi spent the day looking through every album in the shop, trying to find something else that might impress the boy from the rain, should he come back asking for something else entirely. He tried to make sure he had some variety in there, just to be sure that there would at least be something the boy would like.  
  
On the sixth day there was a pile of records behind his desk in preparation, should the boy from the rain return, but he didn’t. By the end of that night, Yoongi had put the records back. As he laid in bed, he contemplated whether or not the boy was a bubble gum pop kind of guy after all, and his polite behavior prohibited him from coming into the shop demanding something else instead of what had been sold to him. He was probably too nice to tell Yoongi his taste in music didn’t appeal to him, and the boy probably figured it easier to just cut his losses and avoid the shop for an eternity.  
  
When the boy walked into his shop on the seventh day, he did not bring the rain with him, nor the album Yoongi had sold to him a week ago. This time it was about an hour to close, and there was one other customer in the shop as well.  
  
The boy didn’t head for the shelves to browse like he did last time, and Yoongi could not pull his eyes away from him for even a moment as made his way over to Yoongi. There was something about the way the boy walked. It was both refined and potent. It was full of character, though it didn’t demand the full of attention of everyone in the room. It was different from a week ago where he almost seemed to hesitate as if he hadn’t been sure whether or not he was stepping on the unwelcoming ground. That probably had something to do with Yoongi’s comment about taking his coat off to keep his floors clean, but the boy knew he hadn’t intended to sound harsh. It was his store, after all. It would make sense that he wouldn’t want dirty rain water trailed in, though the boy knew there would probably have been at least six other ways to more politely deal with customers. The rude exchange, however, seemed to have lost its effects over the week of separation.  
  
The boy grabbed the edge of the counter as soon as it was within arm’s reach and Yoongi had to double check the counter to see if there was a sign that said _'Please! Throw your body on my counter!'_ as the younger boy leaned over it, his loose shirt hardly doing anything productive when it came to concealing his collarbones. With how he leaned forward, they were approaching obnoxiously-exaggerated and Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure as to whether or not the boy did this on purpose. Had it been any other occasion, Yoongi might be happy to stare and appreciate the younger boy’s body, but with this boy now appearing in his shop and getting in his face before he could even count to ten, they had now entered territory that Yoongi was not used to being in.  
  
"Uh…" Yoongi finally got out after a few moments, his eyes darting around, not exactly sure as to where he was free to let his eyes fall without making the boy or himself uncomfortable.  
  
"Hi," the boy chirped, his chin tilting up. His greeting was very similar to the last time, except the hint of irritation that had been there was now gone. Yoongi decided this meant that the boy wasn’t a freak that for some reason enjoyed the weather and the bells in his voice were just naturally there ringing at all hours of the day as if they swung high from the tallest building at the center of a grand town that gathered around to hear the angels sing at the top of every hour. It was almost a relief that he wasn’t dealing with a complete nutcase, but then he remembered how close this boy was to him. He was used to people coming to the counter, obviously, but he was not used to the customers making themselves at home in his personal space.  
  
"Did you want to return the album?" Yoongi asked, leaning back on his stool, tilting away from the boy. His fingers slipped down to his right knee, picking at the loose strands of string that had long been ripped up around the edges of the hole in his jeans. His tone wasn’t necessarily down upon the meaning of the question, but there was something sad about the way he asked it.  
  
"No, actually. I liked it a lot. I didn’t get to listen to it right away, because it took me the entire walk home to realize that I didn’t even own a record player, and honestly I was a bit too embarrassed to come back in and buy one from you considering I had already done that enough even just buying an _album_ ," the boy shrugged, his smile unwavering as he explained himself. It wasn’t taking long for Yoongi to realize that he was a very happy boy, and it was taking less time for Yoongi to fall victim to his charm.  
  
"Had I known you would have to go out and buy a record player from someone, I probably wouldn’t have tried to talk you into getting an album. Those can get pretty pricey, and for someone that hasn’t been all that into music in the past, I don’t know if that’d be a logical investment."  
  
"Oh! No, no. I have this friend who let me borrow his. No money was wasted, I assure you. Not even on the album. As I said, I enjoyed it a lot. I actually came by to see if you had some more recommendations, but…" he jerked his head towards the other person in the store. "If you’re busy, I can always come by another time. I don’t want to hog up anyone’s time with my ignorance."  
  
Yoongi couldn’t quite tell whether the boy was joking or not. The other customer in the shop was a regular, and was well within ear-shot should Yoongi and the boy speak any louder than they already were, but the customer was busy with his own quest for music, clearly having some idea of what he was looking at as he stood with two albums already tucked against his side, and his fingers flipping through one of the center pieces, giving each album only a moment’s glance. Furthermore, even if he wanted to, Yoongi couldn’t think of any appropriate situation as to when he would tell a customer to come back later for assistance, even if he did happen to be doing something important at that moment (which, in this case, he wasn’t).  
  
Even so, as the boy spoke Yoongi found himself leaning forward, the all too beautiful bells drawing him in closer, as if he were a sailor at sea and the boy in front of him was a siren, pulling him into treacherous territory that Yoongi was unfamiliar with, but like the sailors, it wouldn’t matter. He would never realize he was being led to his death, as the beauty in front of him demanded every bit of attention.  
  
"No, you don’t need to leave," Yoongi rushed. "It’s my job to help."  
  
The siren’s power fueled on. The corner of the boy’s mouth turned up into the most delicious of smiles, and had this really been a siren leading a sailor to his death, Yoongi would have already fallen a slave to the dangers of the ocean. The low lighting of the overhead lighting hit the features of the boy’s face just right, as if he were a piece of art on display in a museum, and there had been careful and tedious set-up to illuminate the painting to capture the most attractive of visuals, however, they were just two young men standing on either side of a store counter and all spells were broken almost as quickly as it started when the silence was broken by the clearing of a throat.  
  
Yoongi blinked out of it, quickly straightening up his posture as he realized how close he had been leaning in. He looked over at the culprit of the sound, and his face immediately tightened as he remembered where he was.  
  
"Baekhyun," Yoongi nodded. The siren followed Yoongi’s eyes and his lips tightened as he stepped out of the way of the counter, giving the other customer space so he could make his purchases. "Were you ready to check out?"  
  
"Yeah, I’ve got to head out. It’s date night, and I can’t be late. You know what they say, right? 'Happy wife, happy life.'"  
  
"You’re married to a man," Yoongi’s eyes narrowed as Baekhyun handed him over a few albums.  
  
"Yeah, but it's pretty much the same virtue here. Plus, 'Happy husband, happy life' doesn’t quite rhyme, now does it? You’re the one who writes music, I should expect you to know when something does or doesn’t rhyme," Baekhyun sniped back, his eyes lit up with amusement and it was clear to anyone that they knew each other pretty well.  
  
"You write music?" the siren asked, who had been completely quiet during this interaction.  
  
Baekhyun turned to him, the smile on his face holding strong to his expression, not even bothered in the slightest by the boy’s interruption.  
  
"Yeah, Yoongi didn’t tell you? Well, he hasn’t actually produced anything in a long while, he’s always working or sleeping."  
  
"Oh? Are you signed?" the boy looked over to Yoongi, curiosity dripping from every cell of his body, and obviously so as it fell from his body to the floor, just as the rain had done the first night they met.  
  
"No, I do everything on my own. I have a studio in the back," Yoongi replied, pointing the back of his store, where a wall of windows separated them from a room. Even with the lights off inside, you could see the mixing tables and piano set up along the walls and he felt a bit stupid for not realizing it before.  
  
"That’s so cool, you’ll have to give me a proper tour one of these days!" the boy stepped closer to Baekhyun and Yoongi, making himself a comfortable asset to the conversation. He was quite good at inserting himself into equations, and he was hardly ever overbearing about it. He always did it seamlessly, as if he was always there.  
  
"If you can get Yoongi to even flip the power switch on those damn tables, I’d give you a million bucks. He’s quite good, but as I said, he hasn’t done anything in a million years," Baekhyun pulled out his wallet, handing Yoongi a bill. He turned his body towards the boy as Yoongi pressed a button on the cash register and started digging out the change. Baekhyun leaned against the counter with one arm, the other extending out to offer his hand to the boy. "I’m Baekhyun, what’s your name?"  
  
"Jimin," he grinned, sliding his hand to press his palm against Baekhyun’s, their fingers gripping each other hand’s as they exchanged a firm handshake. They let go of each other as Yoongi held Baekhyun’s change out and Baekhyun picked the albums off the table, holding them up in the air, giving them both a wave as he made his way to the door.  
  
"Thanks, Yoongi! It was nice meeting you, Jimin. Hopefully I’ll see you around," Baekhyun called out as he pushed the door open with his back, and his face fell for the slightest second as his eyes connected with Yoongi, giving him a look that Jimin couldn’t decipher, but before Jimin could even give it much thought the boy was gone, albums and wallet in hand, with the door falling shut behind him.  
  
Jimin turned back to Yoongi, moving back to the center of the counter to stand in front of him, the store now completely empty except for them now, and the spell began again, as if there had been no cure to the first place saving Yoongi from his enchantment, but instead a pause button had just been pressed and it was now resuming again.  
  
"So… Yoongi," Jimin’s meticulous smile returned, his voice growing delicate and conciliatory around the edges of Yoongi’s name, as if he had just won some prize by learning it, and he was taking it for a test ride as he carefully sound it out around the edges of his tongue, the two syllables falling from the tip of his tongue to his lips with great care and expertise.  
  
"Jimin," Yoongi replied, his voice flat, but with far too much effort, as is somehow he realized now that this was no ordinary boy and he knew he needed to stay far away, however, the rest of him was not aware of this new-found battle to withstand against Jimin’s beauty as Yoongi’s forearms slipped forward to rest against the counter, and should anyone look too closely into Yoongi’s dark eyes, they would see the waves of the ocean rising high above him, preparing to crash down against Yoongi and his ship, where they would pull him into the ocean and there would be no hope for Yoongi to return to the light.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CRIED 12 TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS AND EVEN WHEN I FINALLY POSTED IT I DELETED IT AGAIN BC IT WASN'T READY... ok here it is (take 2). thank u, friends.

"Yoongi, do you ever listen to anything that doesn’t come on a record?" Jimin called out, his questioning voice carrying over the velvety tone that crooned through the speakers surrounding the shop, the acoustics resonating clearly throughout every nook and cranny of the room. There was a twitch that journeyed through his body as he moved, countering against each movement as if his body was urging him to move in ways that were not being carried out as if his body was chained up and prohibiting him to run free into the world.

 _Dancer_ , Yoongi figured. The boy was definitely a dancer. This wasn’t the first time the scruffy boy had noticed how elegantly Jimin moved as he strutted around the floor of the shop as if he were performing a routine and the aisles throughout the shop was a stage made just for him. _No_ , this was not the first time Yoongi noticed, but it was the first time Yoongi ever gave the boy more than a second thought.

This was now the second week in a row that Jimin had visited the shop without missing a single day in between. After they had met for the second time, Jimin had started to appear more. 

First, it was maybe two or three times a week. Jimin would come in and walk around, his feet walking strategically throughout the shop as he made light chat with Yoongi. He would map out the layout in his head, making mental notes of what every section of the store was.

Then it was every other day, and Jimin began to take his time at each section. Yoongi liked these weeks more. Jimin was always so focused on looking at the albums that he spoke less. Yoongi appreciated the quiet.

Every now and then another customer would come in when Jimin was, and where Yoongi always found himself looking down no matter who was in his shop, his eyes were always trained on Jimin when anyone else walked in, carefully watching how the smaller boy would react to the company of others. Jimin was always kind to them, much kinder than Yoongi was.

And here they stood now, just barely pushing two months after the first time Jimin had stepped in to hide from the rain.

"No," Yoongi started, pausing for a moment to think before he continued again. "Not everything makes it to vinyl. There’d be quite a number of songs I would be missing out on if I swore loyalty only to things that required a needle spinning around a disc to listen to." His eyes followed every move of the boy made. "Plus, you can’t really bring a record player everywhere. That’d be a horrible inconvenience, and I’m sure there are several places you’d find that wouldn’t allow you past the doors with an entire setup in hand. That’d be too frustrating. Though, I’m sure you could find some modern-day hipsters that would probably go to their grave trying to only listen to vinyl, just for the sake of being able to say they did."

"Makes sense," Jimin answered after contemplating the answer for a moment as if he were considering the piece of information to be enough to satisfy the question at hand. It wasn’t that he doubted the answer, but he seemed to carry out each conversation with care, putting an honest effort into using his brain to store every piece of information Yoongi gave him.

Yoongi sat atop the counter, his legs dangling off the edge of the front. His ankles were crossed neatly, the left tucked behind the right as they swung back and forth, crashing against the wooden counter in a steady beat, thudding in time with the song, never missing a single beat. He noticed the way Jimin’s hips acted in a similar manner, keeping up with the music as it played through the store, and if Yoongi didn’t know better he would have questioned whether the boy was following the music or rather, creating it himself.

"Do you dance?" Yoongi asked, his fingers scratching against the countertop, unable to will himself to stay still while Jimin remained so busy at every moment, whether it was the boy’s feet tapping or fingers thumbing through the selection of music.

Jimin froze. It was as if ice rushed down within his veins, instantly deeming his body useless of movement, and Yoongi worried for a moment that he was stuck that way, but Jimin never made anything awkward. Even things that would normally bother Yoongi now seemed to brush off his back as if the act of annoyance itself was a capability Yoongi had lost track of. At least when it came to Jimin, that is. It wasn’t as if things ceased to annoy him, but it was _Jimin_. Jimin didn’t annoy him.

When Jimin looked up from his hands, his expression carried a hint of curiosity, his eyebrow perched as if it was hanging on to a question that Jimin was wanting to ask, but he didn’t. Instead, the blood started pumping through his body again and there was the quickest flash of smoldering that twisted across Jimin’s face before it turned into his regular sloppy grin, but this time with a dash of hesitation.

"Yes, actually. I studied dance in school, and I’m with this dance company not far from here," he finally offered, his shoulders pushing back almost in a flashy manner and Yoongi wondered if he was trying to show off.

"So you’re a dancer… that knows nothing about music?" Yoongi deadpanned, his own expression unchanging. It wasn’t a cruel question. In all fairness, Jimin had done nothing to express any form in familiarity when it came to music, but Jimin still couldn’t help the blush that threatened to expose himself beneath his cheeky grin that he always seemed to carry.

"I know good beats, I suppose. I never really bothered to learn many song titles, or even their artists or composers. A majority of the stuff I do is just instrumentals, so it’s not like I get attached to voices easily. I can recognize when a music belongs to someone I’ve danced to before, but I guess I just never approached music in a way you would. All I’ve ever cared about is the dancing, not who the royalty check goes out to. Well, not until lately, that is."

"Ah, so what you’re saying is I’m corrupting you?" Yoongi laughed, and the laugh would have lasted longer had Jimin’s eyes not widened in absolute shock, and Yoongi quickly looked behind him to make sure something hadn't snuck up behind him.

"What?" Yoongi asked, turning back around when he saw nothing, his voice laced in a thin layer of fear. "Is there a bug on me or something?"

"No," Jimin snickered, picking up another disk. "I just have never heard you laugh before. I thought you were incapable of experiencing joy or amusement."

"Why you little—" Yoongi started, but Jimin held a hand up, his pointer finger sticking in the air in a warning, and Yoongi immediately shut his mouth. It was as if Jimin was a composure and Yoongi was his entire orchestra, waiting for the flick of a wrist to await the next command.

"You are my _elder_ , Yoongi- _Hyung_! Where do you get off on threatening _children_?"

"Oh, we’re gonna go that route?" Yoongi scowled, pushing himself off the counter as he moved towards Jimin, his feet moving at a brisk pace and it was probably the fastest he’s ever moved in years when it didn’t involve making it somewhere on a time limit.

Had this been one of his friends (a group of which didn’t come in great numbers, if we’re being honest), he would have pinned them down and demanded respect until it was given, but this was not one of his friends. This was a silly little boy that liked to track rain and mud into his store and bother him for hours on a daily basis. If anyone asked, this boy had been the source of two months worth of migraines (and if you asked on their wedding day, Yoongi would say Jimin was the source of fifteen years worth of migraines), but just as Yoongi approached Jimin he remembered that this boy was just a customer, and he could not put his hands on someone he barely knew.

Jimin leans away from Yoongi, holding his hands and a knee up to defend himself as the boy gets closer, pure amusement shining bright in his eyes, as if he welcomed the touch of Yoongi like he would a friend, but still Yoongi slows just as he approaches him, and he shrinks into himself, his shoulders slinking over in promotion of his bad posture, and he rests his hands on the edge of the center aisle piece, breathing in as he looks down at the album in Jimin’s hands.

Jimin was not threatened by Yoongi in the slightest, and he would not have minded the elder’s hands on his body, but he understood that not everyone was comfortable with hands wrapped tightly around bodies, or even hands on bodies at all. It didn’t offend him that Yoongi didn’t touch him. He didn’t need the touch of a person to feel confident in himself.

They make eye contact, and neither of them speaks, a connection forming between them as their eyes say more than their words can. A silent expression of _I want to_ and an  _I know_ , and to this day the connection has never broken.

 

* * *

 

Another couple of months had passed and the leaves were beginning to fall off the trees, marking the end of their first season knowing each other. Jimin didn’t show up every day anymore, but he still did make his appearance known most days of the week, refusing to give Yoongi a solid week of solitude without him bursting through the doors, tracking in whatever was on the bottom of his shoes that day.

Sometimes more than a few days would pass between Jimin’s appearances, and Yoongi would start to wonder what exactly it was the boy got up to when he actually participated in civilization rather than goofing off in his shop.

Jimin never left without buying anything, though. He wasn’t constantly building a collection of records (though, every now and then he would demand that Yoongi would give him more recommendations), but he never left empty-handed. When he wasn’t buying an album or two, he would buy a couple of the pins Yoongi kept near the register. Yoongi wasn’t blind, he knew the boy wasn’t just here for the music or the overrated pins that overflowed the dish, he just couldn’t seem to place what it was about himself that drew the boy in; moreover, what drew Yoongi into caring about the boy.

"You know," Yoongi started one day, speaking out before Jimin had even fully stepped inside the door. He was standing in the middle of the shop, a half-eaten apple in hand which he promptly tossed up in the air, only to catch again. "If you keep tracking in the dirt with those rotten ass shoes, I’m going to have to start charging you an entrance fee. I don’t like cleaning."

"Do you talk to all of your customers this way, Hyung?" Jimin asked, stopping on the rug to brush his feet off, making sure to actually get all the dirt off this time.

"Customers buy things, you just like to annoy me," Yoongi pointed out, leaning back against the centerpiece, lifting the apple to his mouth to take another bite out of it, the crunching sound clearly sounding out through the room. That’s when Jimin noticed there was no music playing.

"I buy things, thank you very much," Jimin rolled his eyes, stepping deeper into the shop. He didn’t move far, though. He wasn’t used to Yoongi being out from behind the counter whenever he got in. Yoongi would always wait patiently on his stool as if he was waiting for permission to join the boy on the floor. "Why is there no music playing?"

"Ah, but you buy _pins_. This is a _record_ store… as in, you know, _music_ ," Yoongi countered, a finger tapping against his apple as he watched Jimin stay in place. "What kind of a person hangs out in a music shop to buy cheap buttons that are really just there to satisfy children? Those cost practically nothing, you could take the whole dish and the whole box in the back and I wouldn’t even miss them."

_Yoongi said nothing about the music._

"Would you prefer I didn’t come at all?" Jimin asked. He wasn’t hurt by Yoongi’s words. They weren’t intended to hurt, they were just observations. Yoongi liked to observe, and he had spent most of the past quarter observing Jimin. He took a few steps closer.

Yoongi shrugged, glancing down at the apple that really didn’t have much left surrounding the core. He by no means felt any ill feelings towards the boy or his constant appearances, but he couldn’t quite say it’d bring a dagger to his heart to never see him again.

"It’s your money, I suppose. Your time. Spend it as you please," he finally answered, pushing off the centerpiece to move to the back wall, taking the last bite off the apple before he tossed it into the small trash bin by the studio door.

"That’s not what I asked," Jimin frowned, stretching his foot out to take another step, but he didn’t let his body follow through with it.

"I didn’t take you for the kind to get insecure over whether or not a shop owner likes seeing his face every day," Yoongi responded, his eyebrow raising as he looked back at Jimin.

"I’m not— You know, you’re kinda rude," Jimin tried. _An observation_.

"So I’ve been told, but now I’m also curious. Do you care what I think of you?" Yoongi already knew the answer, of course, but he was testing the waters a bit, trying out a new spin on human interaction. This take had him actually asking others how they felt, instead of just remaining quiet because he already knew. Baekhyun had told him people like to be asked about what’s going on inside their minds, _not told_.

"Kinda, I guess. I mean, you’re not some beacon in my life that I need for guidance, but I do enjoy your company, if that makes sense," Jimin turned his body in towards the records, looking away from Yoongi as he began his routine of looking through every record in the shop, though he knew them all by heart now, even if he hadn’t listened to the large majority of them. Yoongi didn’t seem to really react to his words anyway, so he asked again: _"Why is there no music playing?"_

"I didn’t want to listen to music today, I listen to it every day," Yoongi yawned as he made his way to the counter.

"Do you care what I think of you?" Jimin challenged, turning to look behind his shoulder as he watched Yoongi climb onto his stool.

"No, not really," he declared.

Jimin didn’t show for another week.

 

* * *

 

Neither of them made a comment about Jimin’s disappearance the next time he showed. They went back to normal (meaning: _Jimin talked Yoongi’s ear off while he pretended to look at the records, and Yoongi pretend not to care, though his eyes always told a different story— a story that Jimin wanted to read over and over until he knew it better than even the author_ ). There was no apology spoken from either of them, but neither of them needed anything that words could prescribe. They made eye contact, nodded at each other, and then all tension was wiped away with the forgiveness each of them both offered to one another

"So you know," Jimin finally spoke about half an hour into his visit of the day. Yoongi knew his patterns, and he didn’t even need to look up from his notebook to know that Jimin was just now getting to the classical section. "You’re pretty knowledgable about music…" he trailed off.

"I am," Yoongi agreed, shutting his notebook, holding it steady on top of his lap. "Do you need help with something?"

"No— Well, yes… kinda. We have this big recital at the end of the year coming up, and I’ve been given a chance to perform this solo in front of all these people. It’s okay if it’s too much to bother, but I’d really appreciate it if you would help me find the perfect song for it. I can dance to just about everything, but I really want to do a good job with this, it could possibly lead to a more stable career with all the scouts and donors that will be present."

"Uh, I don’t know if I’d be much help when it comes to dancing," Yoongi confessed.

"I don’t need help with the dancing, I just need help finding the music that helps me dance. Does that make sense? It’s hard to explain. I know, it must be pretty pathetic to be a dancer that knows very little about music. I can memorize, choreograph, and perform countless routines in my sleep, but if you ask me what song to play, I’m pretty much lost, but that’s why this solo is so important. I want to show my worth, and I definitely don’t want to have to be slacking when it comes to song choice."

"Makes sense," Yoongi nodded, his teeth digging into his tongue as he willed himself not to speak more. Jimin always made him speak too much.

"So will you help?" Jimin pleaded, his fingers hovering over the disc sleeves as if he were awaiting Yoongi’s response before he could resume carrying out his sorting again.

Where this had been any other person, even someone he’d known for the same amount of time, he probably would have just found a way to politely say no, but as Yoongi tried to search his brain for an excuse why not to help Jimin, he realized he actually wanted to give the boy ease in his search.

Yoongi didn’t know what it was about this boy, but he made the "I don’t care what you think" very hard. While he could relate with what Jimin had said about beacons for guidance, he did feel as if the boy came with a light that was constantly revolving around him. It may not have caused for guidance through a rocky shore, but it did bring Yoongi in.

For the first time since their second meeting, Yoongi consciously thought about how easily the boy had pulled him in, and oh, how he wanted to sink within every wave that would offer itself to him, even if it meant crashing into every rock that stood upon the shore.

"Sure, I haven’t got anything better to do," Yoongi caved (though, you really couldn’t consider it _caving_ , since he was just about willing to do anything to make the boy happy in this moment. Caving would be in reference to sinking into a feeling he urged to fight against, but Yoongi welcomed this feeling as if were a song that was written just for Yoongi to listen to, and he had no choice but to fall under its spell).

This time when the boy smiled it was different. It wasn’t the pleasant, cheeky smirk he offered up to everyone. Jimin was a very kind person, and Yoongi had seen him interact with several of his other customers over the span of four months. He knew he was nice to everyone, not just Yoongi. He always greeted everyone with a smile, whether they deserved one or not.

But no, this time was different. Yoongi couldn’t quite place it at the time, but he knew there was a fire behind it, the tips of the flames flickering up towards the pupils of his eyes, where a soothing wind calmed it down of any unwanted heat, leaving it just warm enough to keep anyone safe from the blistering cold, but not hot enough to burn anyone quite just yet.

"Thank you," Jimin hummed, and Yoongi could hear it in his voice, too. Yoongi picked at the corner of the notebook as he pondered it, wishing he knew a word that would describe such a creation, but nothing came to him, and he was stuck searching his scattered brain for anything that Yoongi could seek familiarity with.

This was uncharted territory for Min Yoongi. Jimin was uncharted territory for Min Yoongi.

When Jimin left that day Yoongi felt disappointment sinking through him, but he refused to believe it was from missing the boy. _It was not from missing the boy._ It was because he couldn’t think of the word that described what missing him felt like.

 

* * *

 

"Where were you born?" Jimin asked from where he sat on Yoongi’s stool. Yoongi didn’t recall extending an invitation to the boy to sit behind his counter, but for some reason, Jimin still seemed to have no issues making himself at home in Yoongi’s usual spot.

"Daegu," Yoongi answered, offering no further specifics on the matter.

Their positions were swapped today, as they had been for the past week. Ever since Jimin asked for help with his routine, Yoongi permanently placed himself on the floor, mimicking Jimin’s usual regimens throughout the shop, only he moved slower than Jimin usually did. He stared at each album with great precision, taking his time as if he were playing each song on every album through his head before he decided against it and would return it to its spot. It had been a week, and Yoongi still had not made it through the entire selection.

Jimin thought it was a bit odd at first when he had seen Yoongi taking so much time. It had reminded him of himself when he had first started coming to visit the shop, and how he would flip through each album one by one, educating himself to the best of his ability. By now, Jimin knew every artist in the shop, every album that was stocked on the shelves, and he’d bet money that he could tell you where any album was and list every song that came on it (he might not know what most of the songs sounded like and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell you if he liked any of them, but he did know them all by heart now).

"How old are you exactly? I know you’re older than me, but I—"

"Twenty-five," Yoongi interrupted.

"Oh," Jimin chirped as if the number somehow pleased him. "I’m tw—"

"Twenty-three," Yoongi intruded again, his expression thoughtful as he focused on the album clutched in his hands. Jimin’s eyes widened a bit, curiosity racking through him as he wondered how Yoongi knew his age, but he was also more interested in how Yoongi was able to maintain a conversation so easily when he had refused to even look at the boy once the entire time he’d been in the shop.

After a few moments, Jimin’s silence got to Yoongi, and Yoongi’s eyes flickered up beneath his lashes to make sure Jimin was okay. He wasn’t used to the boy keeping his mouth shut. Jimin was looking at him with a hint of shock, almost as if Yoongi had grown a second head, but somehow his eyes were kinder as if he didn’t mind the addition sprouting out from between his shoulders. It took another few moments for Yoongi to realize what the hold-up had been.

"I’ve seen your license, remember? The first time you paid with a card. I know how to do the math. You were born in ninety-five, were you not?" Yoongi offered, and if Jimin didn’t know better he would say Yoongi’s usual disinterested tone wasn’t as present in that moment as if reassuring Jimin that he wasn’t some crazy stalker was important to him… _as if he actually cared what Jimin thought._

"Right, yes. My license, that makes sense. For a moment I was worried you had followed me home, maybe snooped around in my stuff and found my birth certificate or something."

Yoongi scoffed, ending their eye contact without a moment’s notice, sliding the disc in hand back into its spot. He let out a weighty breath, his body dragging heavily as he abandoned his station in the hip hop section, finding nothing of gratification there. He moved to the center of the shop and looked down at his hands, his fingers twitching a bit as if he were counting something off on them.

Jimin leaned his elbows forward to rest on to the counter, his hands tucking comfortably underneath his chin, holding his head up as his eyes focused on the other boy. Yoongi was a bit of a mystery to him. _No, not a mystery._ Jimin didn’t want to solve him and then call it a day. He wasn’t a challenge Jimin was drawn to overcome or conquer. He wasn’t a puzzle to be solved. Yoongi offered him the answers to any questions he brought forth, he wasn’t a secret code that needed to be deciphered.

_No, that wasn’t it._

Yoongi just seemed to draw him in. Though he never extended arms to Jimin in a literal sense, there was something about the way Yoongi didn’t shove him aside that spoke to Jimin, as if the simplicity of eyes locking together was an invitation to sumptuous lands full of countless tales of dragon slaying, grand parties, delicious feasts, and stories of love and honor. When he looked at the older male, he saw the best story in the world, and all he needed to do was get to the end, but Jimin didn’t want to miss a single second. He wouldn’t skip to the end even if the world was offered to him. Yoongi was already his favorite book, and though Jimin didn’t know the ending, he knew he’d want to read him over and over.

And there they were now, Jimin on the stool watching the world from Yoongi’s point of view. Watching _Yoongi_ from Yoongi’s point of view, and there was something familiar about the way Yoongi stood, as if where Yoongi’s feet were placed was the center of the world, and he had learned about it through the years growing up, and all the wondrous tales that had taken place right here in the center of the shop. Except that’s all it was, the center of a shop. _Yoongi’s shop_. A run-down little store that might as well be full of antiques that the world had tossed aside, but Yoongi found treasure and comfort within.

" _Fuck_ ," Yoongi cursed, tearing Jimin from his thoughts, and he watched as the elder made a beeline towards the back door.

_The door that led to Yoongi’s studio._

Jimin didn’t know whether he was welcome to follow Yoongi or not, so he settled for staying on Yoongi’s stool, watching him through the studio’s window as Yoongi flicked on the lights inside. He scrambled around, searching through the contents on the desk, and it was evident from all the papers that Yoongi was tossing around that the studio was basically just a giant, unorganized filing-cabinet, and it almost made him sad that Yoongi didn’t use his studio for writing music. _Almost_.

Jimin watched as the boy lifted a CD case, and though it was evident that Yoongi had found what he was looking for, it didn’t seem to quite satisfy him just yet. Yoongi’s hands fumbled around the edges of the casing, working to pop it open as he made his way out of the studio, moving just as quickly to get out of the cramped room as he had to get inside there in the first place.

Yoongi went behind the counter, slipping easily behind Jimin as he reached down to the shelving below, grabbing his laptop. Jimin sat up, pulling off the counter as he straightened his back to give Yoongi more space behind his counter, preparing to get up if he needed to, but Yoongi moved as if Jimin wasn’t even there. 

Jimin watched as Yoongi set the opened CD case down on the counter, Yoongi’s right arm bumping against Jimin’s left as he typed in the passcode to the laptop. Jimin stayed in place, not moving a single inch as Yoongi’s arm brushed against him, only pressing into him harder when Yoongi popped the disc tray open. His arm disappeared from Jimin’s as Yoongi reached over to grab the CD from the case, and Jimin’s eyes followed Yoongi’s fingers, watching them move with purpose.

Some western R&B song that Jimin faintly recognized was still playing on the overhead speakers, and Jimin stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb Yoongi from whatever it was that was happening. Jimin was used to physical contact, he really was. As a dancer he had grown used to people’s hands on his body, and vice versa. He had known complete strangers to have their hands on him, fingers creeping and lurking over every inch of his body, nails dragging against skin as they carried out dances of heavy passion

An arm touching an arm meant nothing. Jimin could have more bodily contact bumping into a stranger on the street. It meant nothing. Except it meant something. Yoongi was never the type to offer up any form of skin-to-skin contact. _Ever_. Jimin had touched more of Yoongi’s friend, Baekhyun, than he had touched Yoongi, and that was just a handshake. And here Yoongi was, not even bothered by the fact Jimin had not only come to yet again "annoy" him, not even bothered by the fact Jimin had stolen his throne in the corner of the shop, not even bothered in the slightest that his body was so close to Jimin’s that they were literally touching.

Still, it was as if the contact was burning hot, etching a brand into his skin that was hidden from the world, as if it was a mark that only he would be able to see. It wasn’t an uncomfortable burn, and Jimin probably only related it to the unforgiving flames of a burning fire because of how warm Yoongi’s skin was, but this was not an unforgiving touch sent to destroy everything in its path. 

It was the arm of a boy who was calculative and thoughtful. The arm of a boy who spent his days eating apples and writing in beaten up journals. The arm of a boy who was sometimes mean, but had the kindest eyes he had ever seen. _Min-Fucking-Yoongi_ , who was always beating against something in time with the music, who listened to such a wide array of music that Jimin couldn’t keep up with. _No_ , it was not an unforgiving flame. It was a boy with soft skin and fires so concealed and compact that even an unlit match held more flames. He just happened to have warm skin, _that was it_.

Either Yoongi didn’t care that they were this close, or he was so busy that he didn’t notice. Yoongi had never offered so much as a handshake, and now Jimin was so close that if he leaned his head just a few inches to the left, his forehead would be pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Then Yoongi moved again, his body turning towards Jimin, and Jimin’s eyes widened a bit, confused as to what was even happening, and then he felt Yoongi’s left palm pressing against his stomach. All Jimin could do was hold absolutely still, afraid that if he moved or even _spoke_ that it would spook the older boy and send them both into a world of embarrassment.

Jimin felt the pressure on his stomach tighten, his stomach muscles doing the same as the foreign hand pressed flush against his body. Jimin let his eyes flicker over just a little bit to look at Yoongi, and he realized Yoongi wasn’t even looking at him. He turned his head more, following where Yoongi was looking and found that Yoongi was messing with the dials on the wall.

"What are you d—" Jimin started, and suddenly the music overhead was cut-off, leaving the store absolutely silent except for the slightest strain in Jimin’s breath. Yoongi had just been using his body to hold his balance, but when Yoongi leaned away from the wall and turned his head to make eye contact with the smaller boy, his hand still didn’t move.

Jimin was pretty sure even Yoongi could feel his heart beating rapidly in the pit of his stomach, his blood pumping so vigorously and purposeful that just about every inch of his body was becoming flushed from the crown of his head down to the flats of his feet. It was a beautiful shade, really. Even Yoongi couldn’t deny how wonderfully the light pink hues suited Jimin’s skin. Yoongi could think of several people that would pay to see just how well it spread over a blank canvas, and for a fragment of a second Yoongi felt pride that this sight was _his_ and his alone, but then he remembered the boy was not his, and this was just an overbearing, nuisance of a customer that brought upon as many headaches as he did soothing moments. This boy was not his, nor should Yoongi even consider the thought.

And before Jimin could fully register whether or not he felt Yoongi’s thumb brushing against his stomach, Yoongi’s hand was off his body, and when Yoongi turned back to his laptop, his body was leaning away from Jimin, almost shying away from his body and something almost fell in Jimin when he realized he was keeping his body away on purpose. _Almost_ …

"I, uh… I think I got a song," Yoongi whispered out into the quiet air. His tone was softer than usual, there was not a doubt in Jimin’s mind. If Jimin didn’t know better, he would say Yoongi was somehow embarrassed by the interaction that had just occurred, but Yoongi didn’t get embarrassed… _Did he?_

Yoongi’s nose crinkled up as if he noticed the change in his voice as well. The silence in the shop was broken by the clearing of Yoongi’s throat and Jimin watched as Yoongi stood up straight, his fingers gripping the base of the laptop to pull it further away from Jimin, Yoongi’s frame migrating a few more inches in the same direction.

"For your dance, I mean. I got a song for your dance," Yoongi clarified, refusing to make eye contact with Jimin. His fingers danced expertly across the keyboard, almost as expertly as Jimin’s body flowed around the shop, and their ears were soon filled with the beginnings of a song as soon as Yoongi hit play. "It’s a G-Dragon song."

"What’s it called?" Jimin asked as he stared at the screen, watching the bar at the bottom tug along at the bottom of the screen as the song played on, watching the timer countdown, relying on it to tell him when he was allowed to move again.

"Untitled," Yoongi replied, using his hands to push away from the counter. He walked himself back, his teeth catching against his lip as his back fell against the wall, his head falling further back to do the same.

"Like, it doesn’t have a title?"

"No, that is the title," Yoongi answered, his hands sliding into his pocket and they remained like that for the duration of the song, neither saying a single word. Jimin felt it. He knew this was the song, yet finding it didn’t bring the reaction he had expected, but somehow that was okay. Neither of them needed Jimin to scream and jump off the walls to show his gratitude. They weren’t fluent in each other, but they knew enough of each other’s body language to _know_.

Jimin didn’t snap out of his daze like he usually did when Yoongi surprised him. This time it was a slow working as if he was waiting for frost to coat the lands, forming against every surface, just so he could watch the water droplets fall from every building and tree as they started to melt at the end of the season. 

It was a slow-burning in his stomach as if the burning attention from Yoongi’s skin refused to leave. His muscles remained tight, the strain almost hurting with how long it lasted. It wasn’t until Jimin laid in bed that night that every bone and muscle in his body truly calmed down again, and it wasn’t for another couple of weeks until Yoongi finally regained enough confidence to spend more than a couple moments looking Jimin in the eye and of course, none of these moments were coupled with the gratification of skin upon skin.

 

* * *

 

Jimin walked into the shop and immediately looked around. _Something was different_. The bell chimed when the door opened, just as usual. None of the floor’s layout had been rearranged. No, the shop had been exactly as it had been the night before. Even the notebook Yoongi had been writing in last night was still in the exact spot Yoongi had left it in the night before.

 _Nothing had changed_ , Jimin was sure of it. He had been there an hour past close asking Yoongi opinions on his dance, performing little bits and pieces. Of course there wasn’t really much room for Jimin to do anything, and he more walked him through some of the moves instead of actually _performing_ it, but as far as Yoongi knew he was doing fantastic (though Yoongi didn’t actually have much to base it on, he just liked watching Jimin _move_ ). 

Jimin stepped further into the shop and immediately he realized. _Yoongi was missing_.

"Yoongi?" he called out. "Yoongi are you in here?" Jimin leaned down, craning his neck out to look behind a rack in the center of the store. He stood up straight, turning around in a circle, stopping once his eyes landed on the door to the studio. It was cracked open. _The lights were on inside_.

Jimin took a deep breath as he made his way back towards the door, practically holding his breath as not to make more sound than necessary.

"Yoongi?" he asked again, his small hand stretching out towards the door, his fingertips just barely brushing against them when he heard the door chime go off behind him. Jimin spun around to see Yoongi walking in with… _Baekhyun?_ Yes, that was his name.

"No, really! You should have _seen_ him with those kids, Yoongi. It was like he was born to be surrounded by them, you know? _Fuck_ , I couldn’t even take my eyes off of him and we were there for the kids," Baekhyun was going on, obviously continuing a conversation that was going on before they had even stepped inside.

"You’re cursing while discussing looking at kids with your husband, wow. Has Chanyeol started to get onto you about that tongue of yours, yet?" Yoongi asked, pulling the door shut behind them.

"No, but I have been getting onto his tongue if you know what I me— Oh! Hey! Jimin, right?" Baekhyun stopped speaking as soon as he looked up and saw Jimin standing in front of the studio.

"Yes, Jimin. Baekhyun, right?" Jimin suddenly felt bad for being so close to Yoongi’s personal room, but he couldn’t move away now, it’d just look even more guilty. Instead he stood in place, his fingers curling into fists around the edges of his sleeves, crinkling the fabric up in a ruthless grip, his head tilted down in mortification, but his eyes unable to look away from Yoongi, his eyes asking for forgiveness underneath his lashes, though he had technically done nothing wrong.

"Yes! It’s nice to see you again. Sorry that I had Yoongi out for so long, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I just stopped by to steal him for a quick cup of coffee," Baekhyun explained, his teeth bright behind his smile. Baekhyun was honestly a very handsome man. He had nice, dark hair and some of the kindest pair of eyes Jimin had ever seen, it was such a contrast to the soft, _pretty_ features of Yoongi’s face that Jimin was used to looking at.

"Yeah, it seems I forgot to lock the door," Yoongi grumbled underneath his breath as he walked to the counter and set his coffee cup down. Immediately Jimin took two steps away from the studio door, shame sinking deeper and _deeper_ into the deepest pits of his stomach. Jimin hadn’t even done anything, yet the fact that Yoongi hadn’t even spoken him to directly made Jimin feel as if he had disappointed his elder beyond belief.

 _Great_.

"I didn’t mean to intrude," Jimin rushed, fighting to explain himself.

"Oh, don’t mind him!" Baekhyun snorted. "He’s a fucking _ass_ before he’s gotten a decent amount of caffeine in him." Baekhyun looks over to where Jimin is, noticing him stepping away from the open door and he turns his focus over to Yoongi. "Yoongi, were you working on anything in your studio?"

Yoongi ignored them as he moved behind the counter. Jimin began to worry that this would start another week of them ignoring each other, but as Yoongi lifted the cup of coffee to his lips, Jimin was sure that even a blind man standing on the other side of the world could see the smirk that stretched across Yoongi’s lips.

"You little fucking piece of sh—" Baekhyun started, only to be interrupted by Yoongi.

" _Language_ , Hyung! We just spent the past half hour getting coffee and talking about you and your husband adopting children the entire way there and back. You really need to stop cussing, you’ve been spending _way_ too much time around me," Yoongi warned, his smirk only spreading up to his eyes. Jimin had been wrong, he realized. The fire in his eyes wasn’t beneath the flame of a simple match, it was a wildfire that bent backwards, under the complete persuasion of Yoongi’s will.

"You _have_ been writing music again! Have you finished any songs?" Baekhyun nearly sprinted over to the counter, his hands making a grab for the tattered journal, but Yoongi snatched it up before Baekhyun had a chance to even lay a finger on it.

"Yoongi, you can’t do that to me! It’s been literally _years_ since you have ever done anything, and now that you have this fucking journal full of stuff, you won’t show _me_? I’m your best friend!"

"What makes you think you’re my best friend?" Yoongi playfully spat, his eyebrow raising as he stuffed the journal underneath the counter.

"Oh, yes!" Baekhyun yelled out, just a hint of overbearing drama lacing his voice. "I forgot, _Jimin_ is who you spend all your time with now. Jimin!" Baekhyun turned around to look at the boy and Baekhyun nearly laughed at how pitiful and left out the younger boy looked. " _Jimin_ , no need to look like that. Yoongi here adores you. Never shuts up about you, actually. 'Today, Jimin talked non-stop for a solid two _hours_ before he even took a breath of air', 'Today, Jimin bought _six_ pins', and 'Jimin hasn’t shown up for _days!_ I think he hates me!' Frankly, I think it’s quite pathetic." Baekhyun watched as Jimin stood in place, nothing changing except for a light blush that covered the apples of Jimin’s cheeks. Baekhyun waved his hand, gesturing for him to come over, "Honestly, Jimin. I’m _serious_ , get over here."

Jimin walked over to the counter, his blush only deepening when he realized Yoongi was staring at him. He couldn’t decipher the look in the elder’s eyes at all. It was probably the first time he had no clue what Yoongi was thinking, but he knew damn well that Yoongi was doing nothing but.

Jimin laid his hands on top of the counter as he approached it, his palms pressing flat against the black-painted wood, his character slipping to normal as he slipped into a comfortable position against the counter, his body leaning into it until his stomach was pressing against the edge.

"So, tell me, Jimin. Has Yoongi here showed you any of his songs?"

"No," Jimin answered honestly. "I honestly didn’t even know that’s what he was doing with those journals. I thought maybe he was doing book-keeping or something."

" _Journals?_ As in, plural?" Baekhyun turned back to Yoongi, his eyebrows furrowing. "You mean to tell me you sit here day in and out, writing _multiple journals_ worth of songs in front of your little dancer here, but you don’t even give me, your best friend, the slightest hint that you even remember how to make a rhyme?"

Jimin laughed at Baekhyun’s rant, his eyes shining as they remained captive to Yoongi’s. They never looked away from each other. They both knew Baekhyun was just having a playful go, but as the younger two stared at each other, they spoke wordlessly, planning out a plot that would just drive Baekhyun even further towards his crazed madness.

"Yoongi-Hyung, my wondrous _best friend_ , would you do me the honor of showing me your journal?" Jimin asked, his tone growing quite proper, a twist in his words curving around each word that sounded altogether way too mischievous and spiteful for Baekhyun’s taste. This, of course, only made Yoongi’s smile grow, and Jimin began to worry that if Yoongi smiled for even a moment more, his face would fall off. Surely Yoongi wasn’t used to this much smiling. His body couldn’t possibly withstand the feeling of joy for much longer. He could very well keel over and die right before their very eyes.

Yoongi seemed to think for a moment, bringing a hand up to tap his finger against his chin, the sound of it just edging Baekhyun on even further. "Hmm…" Yoongi hummed, his eyes finally breaking from Jimin’s as he looked up at the ceiling. When his gaze dropped back down, so did his hand, both of them extending out towards Jimin.

Had Baekhyun not been there, Jimin probably would have hesitated with reaching out to grab Yoongi’s hand, especially considering the painful two weeks it had taken them to recover from even their arms brushing against each other, but this time Yoongi was offering his hand, and without further questioning Jimin took it.

Yoongi guided him around the counter with his hand and Jimin gladly stepped around it with ease, letting Yoongi conduct him as he did the fire that burned in his eyes. When Jimin stepped close enough, Yoongi stretched out his other hand, easily pulling Jimin to stand between his legs, Jimin’s back to Yoongi's front. This time when Yoongi’s hands touched his body it was more comforting. There wasn’t a shock about it. Yoongi definitely knew his hands were on Jimin’s body, and Jimin was openly welcoming every single moment.

All shyness and embarrassment were gone as Yoongi made a grand gesture of wrapping his slick arms around Jimin’s stomach and pulled him back towards him, Yoongi’s chin hooking over Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin could feel Yoongi’s eyes burning into his skin as he spoke again, and they both made a scene of purposely ignoring Baekhyun. "Why of course, my lovely little best friend. I’ll show you whatever you would like," Yoongi finally said, his voice teasing and full of dramatics. Jimin could barely contain his laughter as Yoongi even threw a wink in there… for good measures, _of course_.

"Look, we all get the sexual tension between you two is through the roof, but you don’t need to—"

"What sexual tension? Can’t a man just hug his _best friend?_ " Yoongi interrupted. "Here," he continued on, turning his attention back to Jimin as he leaned in to press a quick peck to the boy’s cheek before he let go of him with one arm to grab the journal off the shelf. He held the journal up for Jimin to grab, returning his arm back around the boy’s body as soon as the journal was taken from his hand. "Since we’re _such_ best friends, you can look at it right now."

Jimin’s cheek burned from where he had felt Yoongi’s lips, much like how his skin had burned before the night his stomach kept him up in knots, however, he ignored it as he flipped the journal open and turned through a few pages. He stilled up in Yoongi’s arms, biting his tongue as he read down the page. Yoongi’s face was still so close to his that he could feel the air blowing from Yoongi’s nose in time with the rumbling of Yoongi’s chest against his back. Yoongi was laughing, and it didn’t take much time before Jimin joined in with him. Baekhyun was _fuming_ and all Jimin could do was toss the opened journal on the counter between them for Baekhyun to see. The page was full of numbers and item codes, and so were all the other pages Jimin had flipped through.

 _Bookkeeping_. It really was just _bookkeeping_.

"Are you serious?" Baekhyun groused when he saw the pages. "I’m telling Chanyeol about this, I’m not even kidding. I’m going to see to it that he doesn’t feed you for a solid _month_. This is cruelty. You know how excited I get about you writing songs."

"Right, and how 'excited' would that be? On about the same level of your night with doting husband last night, or about the same level of excitement that you get from obsessing over my sex life with my boy, Jimin, here?"

 _My boy, Jimin_.

"So you _are_ fucking?" Baekhyun’s whispered, his eyes widening as he leaned in as if he were being told some grand secret and he needed to make sure to keep his voice down so no one would hear (though, of course, there was no chance of that happening with how empty the shop was).

"No!" Yoongi yelled, his voice soaked in annoyance and Jimin was sure if Yoongi were holding onto anything but a person, he would certainly be chucking it at Baekhyun’s head. "You’re a fucking _idiot!_ Buy something or get out of my shop."

"You’re insatiable, Min Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I hate you," Baekhyun sighed, flipping the journal shut and sliding it back towards the other side of the counter. "Dinner’s at seven, okay? Don’t be late this time."

"Oh? I thought I was banished from your husband’s cooking for a month? Well, that didn’t last long! Guess I won’t starve to death after all," Yoongi laughed, his arms loosening around Jimin, but not quite letting go, not that Jimin was trying to escape anytime soon. He quite liked the company of Yoongi, especially when it involved the boy’s friend.

Baekhyun was just as fiery as Yoongi, Jimin had decided. It was a different kind of fire. Baekhyun burned rapidly and feral, whereas Yoongi’s burned tedious and with the utmost of care as if it guarded things that were old and sacred and had little to no time for the nuisance of child’s play, and that somehow made him much more dangerous.

"You know what?" Baekhyun groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat as he backed away from the two boys. "Just— _Shut up_. I give up. Be there at seven, or I’ll be sure you never taste a bite of Chanyeol’s cooking ever again."

Yoongi and Jimin’s laughs joined together a chorus, unlike any other song that had played through the speakers in Yoongi’s shops. They were both perfectly in time and in tune with each other, and it was as if both of their laughs twisted together, forming into one.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes as he made it to the door and just as his hands pushed it open, he turned around to look back at them. "Oh, Jimin! You’re free to join us if you aren’t doing anything tonight. Chanyeol, my husband, wouldn’t mind at all. Plus, I’m sure he’d love to meet you."

"Really?" Jimin perked up, standing up straight in Yoongi’s arms, but his enthusiasm was gone almost as soon as it appeared, his face falling with it. "Actually, I have dance rehearsals tonight, I wouldn’t be able to make it. Can I get a rain check?"

"Of course," Baekhyun nodded. "Another time, I’m holding you to that promise."

And then he was gone.

Yoongi’s hands moved to Jimin’s waist as soon as the door shut behind Baekhyun, and Jimin’s skin crawled at how hot Yoongi’s breath was on his cool skin. Yoongi leaned his head back a little and pressed his forehead into Jimin’s shoulder, the only thing separating them a piece of fabric that covered Jimin’s shoulders, and _oh_ , in that moment Yoongi wanted to rip it away.

But he didn’t. He didn’t do anything but hold him for a few moments longer, and then a few more after that. When he felt he had been greedy enough, he gave him a little push, urging him to step away before he moved his hands off his body. Jimin swore he couldn’t breathe, but in reality, he had never breathed easier in his life.

 

* * *

 

Two days later Jimin showed up bright and early with a cup of coffee in one hand, and tea in the other. It was so early, in fact, that the store wasn’t even technically open. He took a wild guess and assumed Yoongi had spent the night in his studio, as he usually did, and after Baekhyun’s little piece of advice on how Yoongi needed a cup of coffee to kickstart his day, he thought he’d surprise the older boy with some shots of espresso in a horribly bitter coffee.

Except it wasn’t _bright_ and early, it was just early. The rain was pouring, harder than it had in months. Jimin had made the horrible decision to go by foot to the coffee shop and continue on in such a manner to Yoongi’s shop. It wasn’t his fault, really. The sun had been shining proudly when he left home. It was not his fault that the weather would decide to play such a cruel trick today.

Jimin _really_ didn’t want to annoy Yoongi with the knocking on a glass door at so early in the morning, but he Jimin also _really_ didn’t want to catch pneumonia outside in this weather either. He stood there, cursing himself for ending up in such a predicament. Still, he tucked the tea between his body and the arm responsible for tea, clearing his hand to form a fist to bang against the door. The rain pounded outside, and Jimin wondered if his fist knocking against the door would somehow manage to wake Yoongi from a slumber over the sound of the rain.

However, Yoongi came to his rescue. Jimin sighed in relief when he saw Yoongi’s frame walking out of the studio door, moving at a painfully slow pace. Jimin grabbed the tea from its spot again, waiting outside while the rain continued on, hoping Yoongi would make it to the door sometime within the century.

Yoongi obviously was not awake at this hour. He wasn’t even alert enough to be his usually grumpy, charming self. He was about as useful as a slug, moving bare centimeters every few minutes. Yoongi finally made it to the door, his fingers taking their time to twist the lock at the door, a wide yawn striking across Yoongi’s face as he pushed the door.

The elder’s eyes were barely open as Jimin stood out in the rain, unable to bring himself to push Yoongi out of the way to rush inside. They stood there for a few more seconds until Yoongi recovered from his yawn and his eyes finally opened wide enough for him to realize what was really going on in front of him.

"Jimin?" Yoongi queried, unsure of whether or not to trust the sight his eyes brought before him. Yoongi seemed to wake up then, realizing the boy actually was standing there, virtually drowning in the heavy downpour outside. "Fuck, _Jimin!_ " Yoongi hissed, automatically reaching out to yank the smaller boy inside.

Jimin nearly dropped the drinks at the force of Yoongi’s urgency, and the shock of it had him standing inside Yoongi’s shop, teeth chattering away miserably as copious amounts of water painted the doorway of Yoongi’s shop, both from the rain still falling from outside and the rain falling off of Jimin’s body. Yoongi was moving fast now, pulling the door closed behind him.

Yoongi’s hands slipped around Jimin’s elbow, leading him back towards the studio in the back. Jimin barely had time to register the fact he was being led towards a room he had only ever known as Yoongi’s personal slice of the world, cut off from everything else, but now Yoongi was pulling him into it as if Jimin were dying of an unforgiving poison, and the only cure was in the room.

Jimin was shaking and his clothes were sticking to every bit of his skin. He was so uncomfortable that he still couldn’t find the words to speak, so instead, he held the cup of coffee out to Yoongi. The fire in Yoongi’s eyes was burning stronger than ever, and Jimin wondered if that fire had always been there, or if there was ever a moment in Yoongi’s life that had lit the flame.

Yoongi looked at the coffee in Jimin’s hands before gingerly taking it from him, doing the same thing with the tea, though it wasn’t offered to him. Yoongi set both drinks down on his desk before turning his attention back to Jimin. Jimin, whose clothes clung so tight to his body that Yoongi could see even the faintest hints of muscle that littered over Jimin’s skin.

"Take off your shirt," Yoongi commanded, walking around him to go to his bag in the corner.

"What?" Jimin asked, turning around in place so his eyes could fall Yoongi.

"I said," Yoongi repeated. "Take off your shirt. _Now_ , Jimin-ah."

Jimin dropped his hands down to the hem of his shirt and started to pull it up his body, but the shirt was so heavy with water that he started to fumble with it as he tried to get it over his head. Yoongi finally turned back to him when he found a clean shirt, and he let out a slow breath as he made his way back to Jimin, tossing the clean shirt over his own shoulder as he walked back. Yoongi reached up, his hands stilling Jimin’s twisted arms.

"Easy now," Yoongi whispered and Jimin held completely still, allowing Yoongi to move his arms at his will to get the wet shirt off his head. Yoongi let the heavy shirt drop to the floor, not caring where it dared to land. Jimin’s teeth still clicked together, and Yoongi rushed to get the dry shirt back on the boy, just wanting to make the boy all warm and whole again.

Yoongi got the shirt over Jimin’s head and helped the shivering boy get his arms through the holes. Yoongi somehow felt it was his fault that the boy was so miserable now. Maybe if he had gotten to the door a little sooner, or maybe if he would have shut his door sooner one day, he wouldn’t have to be standing here suffering now.

"Oh, Jimin-ah," Yoongi sighed as he lifted his hands up to cup Jimin’s face in his hands. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing his thumb across the top of the younger boy’s cheek, he had resisted the urge far too many times in the past to allow it to happen again. Yoongi shook his head, his breath heavy as he clicked his tongue a few times. Still, the boy wouldn’t stop shaking and Yoongi took a chance, dropping his forehead to rest against Jimin’s as they both sank into a puddle on the floor, where Jimin’s insisted on trembling on the outside, while Yoongi’s settled on the internal torturous burning within. "What in the world am I going to do with you?"


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what i called "toned down angst" and im SORRY if this sucks, but i have to be up in like 5 or something hours to be at work in the morning because, yanno, that's what adults do ?? and i already rewrote a lot of this twice because it had way too much angst that it hurt by head, so this is the half-assed "toned down angst" chapter that no one (everyone) asked for

The months that had passed since that rainy morning were both slow and exhilarating at the same time. Neither of them had spoken of the second night in the rain, Jimin too afraid that it would lose its meaning if he spoke of it, and Yoongi too afraid that it would be given a meaning that he wasn’t interested in hearing.  
  
Jimin had banged his head against the wall of his bedroom on more than one occasions thinking back to that moment and things he could have said or done differently. The tender and harassing whispers of Yoongi saying his name coupled with Yoongi’s hands stroking against his face as Jimin stood pathetically shaking in front of him haunted Jimin in his sleep. Jimin was livid with both active butterflies in his stomach and embarrassment.  
  
_Oh, Jimin. What in the world am I going to do with you?_  
  
There were times when the words played over in his head, and Jimin could feel his stomach twisting up in knots thinking of how caring Yoongi had been, how worried he had been for Jimin’s health. Jimin wanted to be touched like that for an eternity, patient hands helping him and even kinder ones holding him so close.  
  
Then there were the other times when the track would play over and over in his head, spinning around like the records Jimin had bought from Yoongi would spin around the table, even continuing on after the music had long stopped, and Jimin felt humiliated. Yoongi probably thought of him as a child. He felt like a child.  
  
He had not only ran through town in such a heavy and dramatic downpour, but he also stood outside the door, waiting patiently like a pitiful little dog, waiting for Yoongi to come to his rescue while his clothes became drenched beyond belief. The water had added so much weight to his clothes that he was sure he looked like an infant, huddled over and shivering from the torturous weather. Now he was the idiot kid who didn’t know when to bring an umbrella with him. Yoongi definitely thought Jimin was a child.  
  
Jimin would like to say that they had started touching more at that point, it wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that he wanted Yoongi’s hands all over his body, it really wasn’t. Jimin didn’t need hands on his skin to be happy, and he didn’t need Yoongi touching him to know he cared. Yoongi did care, despite having once said he didn’t.   
  
While they didn’t seem to intentionally touch again, the occasional brush of arms and lingering fingers was now a part of their normal routine, along with the addition of pretending none of the little touches and subtle gazes ever happened.  
  
Jimin’s thoughts and feelings were all over. He had just ducked in one day to avoid the rain, and suddenly buying a record became befriending the shop owner. The reclusive, secluded shop owner that was just as happy being in solitary as others were with building lives with people, and living them with the people around them.  
  
There were times where he fought hard to understand how Yoongi could be satisfied with such a lonely life, but then Jimin would remember that Yoongi didn’t seem to think of himself as lonely. He found enough joy in the music around him and enough company in the customers that would come in. Yoongi still had friends, loud friends that seemed to be the polar opposites of Yoongi. Yoongi was quiet, yes, and he didn’t seem to live off of normal human communication, but he wasn’t lonely and he wasn’t as cold as he appeared at first glance.  
  
Getting closer to Yoongi gave Jimin a new understanding of bittersweet. Some days were easy going, and they’d spend hours, sometimes days, together. They’d share laughs together, and they’d make playful jabs at each other, but the closer they got the worse their bad days seemed to get.

 

* * *

****

"Why do you keep doing that?" Yoongi had asked one day, his body propped up against the door frame of his studio, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Jimin like a hawk.  
  
"Doing what?" Jimin looked up from the album he held in his hands, his body holding completely still from where he stood in the center of the shop. His eyebrow arched up a bit, the skin of his forehead folding up to show some thin lines to support the raised brow, and his fingers tightened on the album as if holding onto it was what was fueling on his life source, like the album held all the answers to life and Jimin so desperately wanted to cling onto it forever.  
  
"You keep acting like, I don’t know. You’re just acting differently. You’ve been standing there for the past five minutes staring at the same album. You know every album in here by heart. I could name off any song, and you’d not only know the album, the artist, and where the album is, but you’d also know what number song it is on the album, and I’d bet my life that you could name every other song on that album. You’ve spent the past seven, nearly eight months memorizing every damn album in this shop. I mean, even if you probably can only name three or four by listening to them and you don’t know the actual music, you know everything else there is to know. You know more than the people who actually listen to all this music. Now, tell me. Seriously, why are you staring at that album?"  
  
Jimin stared at him in shock, his clutch on the album unwavering as the words sunk in. It wasn’t the first time he had heard Yoongi say things like that, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was true, but keeping quiet about things was just a thing that they did, and he was not used to Yoongi expressing concern, especially in so many words.  
  
"That’s a lot of words there, you know. Do you need to take a few minutes to catch your breath?" he asked after a while, breaking his eyes away from Yoongi. The words were teasing enough, not out of the ordinary for the friendly banter they had picked up over the past few months, but there was a shake in Jimin’s breath that did nothing but further prove Yoongi’s point. Something was wrong, and Jimin wasn’t going to tell him.  
  
"Fine, I didn’t really want to know anyway," Yoongi shrugged, his hands uncrossing from his chest and moving down to his pants, where he shoved his hands securely in the pockets.  
  
"Why do _you_ keep doing _that_?" Jimin challenged, turning his body towards Yoongi to meet his gaze again, and this time when they met Jimin’s eyes reflected Yoongi’s, a fire that wasn’t usually there burning just as strong as the one that always lived in Yoongi’s.  
  
"Doing what?" Yoongi sighed, his head tilting to the left to rest against the frame of the door with the rest of his body, his insides threatening to twist into all sorts of knots at the scrutiny of the power blazing in Jimin’s eyes. Part of Yoongi wanted to laugh at the comedy behind it all. Jimin certainly had a personality, but he had never made a habit of rising to Yoongi’s taxing words.  
  
"Pretending like you don’t care," Jimin answered, the hesitation in his breath gone as his eyes narrowed. "About me, I mean. Why do you pretend you don’t care about me, or how I feel? Why do you even go so far as to say that you don’t care what I think when everyone knows damn well that I’m the best damn friend you have. You know, some people would actually _appreciate_ my company. You sit in here all day alone and I know you don’t need me or whatever, but you can drop the act that you don’t like me here anyway."  
  
Yoongi remained quiet as Jimin slid the album back into its place. He knew Jimin’s ticks, and he understood the boy’s body well enough to understand that Jimin was not done speaking, and it’d only make it worse to interrupt him before he had said his peace.  
  
"You know, I don’t really need you to say you appreciate me. I know you do. You are kind, you care so much, you’re so fucking smart and I know you like to pretend that you’re this whole different person, but frankly it’s just annoying. Stop acting as if I’m a person you need to pretend around. Stop trying to convince me that you don’t care, because it isn’t going to work. You’re wasting all this time trying to convince me instead of maybe, I don’t know, showing me more of the real you. Even the little glimpses I’ve got of Min Yoongi are a hell of a lot more better than this facade you put on. So just," Jimin trailed off at the end, the blood rushing to his face from both exasperation and mortification. He had never gone off on Yoongi like that. He had never once lost his self-control around the older boy.  
  
Yoongi’s throat had grown swollen, and Jimin could visibly see the Adam’s apple bobbing as Yoongi tried to swallow what Jimin could only assume to be a lump in his throat. It was never often that Yoongi couldn’t find his power of speech. He always chose when to hold his tongue and when to speak, but it was always by choice.  
  
This was not by choice. Yoongi did not choose to push off the frame. Yoongi did not choose for his feet to walk towards Jimin. Yoongi did not choose to stop less than two feet away from Jimin. Yoongi did not choose to pull his hands from his pockets. Yoongi did not choose to move his hands to rest inches away from where Jimin’s hands still rested on top of the albums, only to quickly retract them almost as soon as he realized how dangerously close he was to grabbing the boy’s hands. And above all, Yoongi did not choose to let the next to words slip from his lips.  
  
_"I’m sorry."_

 

* * *

 

"Yoongi, I brought food!" Jimin called out as he walked into the shop, using his hip to push the door open as he held the bags of food in each hand. He made his way straight towards the counter, not stopping until he got close enough to drop the bags down in front of Yoongi.

  
Yoongi looked up from his phone, his eyes shifting between the bags of food and Jimin standing in front of him. He pressed the lock button on his phone and set the phone down on the counter, leaning forward to peek inside the bag.  
  
"Sandwiches?" Yoongi asked as soon as he realized what was in the bag, his voice dripping with confusion as he looked back up at the boy, trying to make sense of what was going on.  
  
"Yes, sandwiches. I, uh... All I ever see you eat are apples. And, like, I know they say apples are good for you and all, but I’m pretty sure you need to fill your diet with more than just some coffee in the morning and an apple in the afternoon. The coffee’s gonna burn a hole in your stomach one of these days, and all you’ll be filling it with are your stupid apples."  
  
"Excuse you, my apples are _not_ stupid. In fact, _you’re_ stupid for even saying such a thing," Yoongi narrowed his eyes as he pushed the bags towards Jimin. "Take your stupid sandwiches, I don’t want them."  
  
Jimin rolled his eyes as he reached into the bag and grabbed a sandwich bag from inside. He tossed it at Yoongi, not even waiting to make sure the older boy was prepared to catch it, and Jimin tried really hard not to laugh when his aim was terribly off and the sandwich hit Yoongi right in the center of his face. He tried, he really did, but he did not succeed. Of course, this just made Yoongi just slightly more irritable as he worked quickly to catch the sandwich before it fell to the ground and he’d have to get off his stool to pick it up.  
  
Yoongi sighed as he looked down at the sandwich in his hands, touched that Jimin had gone through the efforts, though he wasn’t really up for using words to express it at the moment, so instead he used his steady fingers to open up the bag. He pulled the sandwich out, avoiding eye contact with Jimin as he opened the sandwich up to look and see just exactly what was on it, and after finding nothing distasteful, he lifted it up to take a big bite out of it, an action which Jimin was quite pleased with.  
  
"See!" Jimin grinned. "Was that so hard? Are you dying? Have you been poisoned? I mean, it doesn’t look like that to me. We might have to give it a little time just to make sure any poison in there has all the time necessary to do its work, but from the looks of it, I think we’re both pretty safe here. I know you seem to think all food and other things beneficial to your health are somehow a death trap, but food can sometimes be good for you, you know. It also helps with your mood. If you ate better, you wouldn’t be so damn grouchy all the time."  
  
"I eat, thanks. I just am always working when you’re here. You know, a guy tends to be busy when he’s running an entire shop by himself. It’s not like I have the time to prepare myself eight courses for every meal and snack of the day. I eat when I can, I don’t actually starve myself."  
  
"Yeah, _okay_. You still can’t honestly tell me you eat as you should," Jimin sighed, avoiding the urge to roll his eyes as he pulled a sandwich out of the bag for himself, unwrapping it as he continued to speak. "And Yoongi? You know if you ever need help I can do things for you. I mean, you’ve said it a hundred times before, I know this shop just as well as you. I mean, I’m already here anyway, you would never even need to pay me. It wouldn’t be a big deal if you needed a little help. It’s okay to need help, yanno?"  
  
"Thanks," Yoongi nodded, and they both understood that was a dismissal of the offer. Yoongi didn’t allow for help. Yoongi had always done things on his own. Even when Baekhyun and Chanyeol had offered to help, Yoongi had insisted he do everything on his own. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful for the offers, he just liked things done a certain way, and one of the conditions of that was doing it on his own.  
  
Jimin understood this without needing to press the matter any further. He did not know Yoongi’s past, but it was evident the type of person Yoongi was, and the type of person he was dealing with didn’t want to to be pushed out of his comfort zones. Though Jimin so desperately wanted to pull him out of them and show Yoongi the entire world he was missing out of, that was not something he would ever dream of forcing upon the boy.  
  
So instead they ate in silence. Their eyes met every now and then, but neither of them said anything as they each took their time to devour the lunch Jimin had so thoughtfully arranged. When they finished with their sandwiches, they shared some crackers and strawberries Jimin had brought along, and before they cleaned up Yoongi cut up one of his apples for the two of them to share.  
  
There was something familiar about the way the two of them moved together, even with just eating a meal. They didn’t need to speak to know what the other was going to do next, and they both continued their pattern of avoiding skin contact. They both avoided it at all costs, though towards the end of the meal they both so desperately yearned for even just a moment’s touch, but they were both afraid of how the other would react.  
  
"You’ve got food on your face," Jimin mumbled as they finished up the last bites of their meal, his hand lifting to cover his mouth as he spoke through the chewing of his food. His other hand lifted, an apple slice still in hand as he gestured towards Yoongi’s face.  
  
"And you’ve got a mouthful of food," Yoongi rolled his eyes as he lifted his fingers to the corner of his mouth to brush the remnants of food from his face.  
  
A light blush covered Jimin’s cheeks, his face staying in front of his mouth until he finished chewing, his finger lifting up in the air, signaling for Yoongi to wait. He dropped his hand when he finished swallowing, his body leaning forward against the counter, his mind racing through all the possible excuses he could make up for himself if he would just reach out and grab Yoongi’s hand, but he didn’t make a single move for it, using his willpower to keep his hands to himself.  
  
"I thought we discussed this, Yoongi. Food is supposed to make you _less_ grumpy and irritable. Now show me one of those rare as fuck smiles instead of rolling your eyes at me."  
  
Yoongi shot him a look and Jimin wanted to melt into a puddle. Somehow the angry expression that Yoongi fought so hard to put on spoke more words than a smile ever could, and Jimin added that to his mental list of all the reasons he loved Yoongi.

 

* * *

 

"Tell me," Jimin started, his voice yelling over the music one day. He had to cup his hands around his mouth to even be able to hear himself over the volume Yoongi had turned the speakers onto. Yoongi had done it as soon as Jimin had walked into the door, shooting Jimin a look that was all twisted and confusing. While his face screamed for Jimin to leave him alone, the heated expression did not meet his eyes. He had simply turned on the music to annoy the younger boy. "Do you like Western music more? I mean, your collection on the shelves is smaller, but a lot of the music you play has a lot of English in it."  
  
Yoongi looked up from his journal, his eyes narrowing a bit, but not in a spiteful way. He was trying to focus on what Jimin was saying. After a moment of staring, he turned around on the stool to turn the volume dial down to one of the lowest settings before turning back around to his journal. "What did you say?" Yoongi asked, picking up his pen again to continue writing in the journal.

  
"Why do you listen to so much Western music?" Jimin stared at Yoongi from where he stood, despite the fact that Yoongi refused to look back up at him as his hand scribbled away in the notebook, the pen gripped tightly in hand.  
  
"It helps me with my English," Yoongi replied, his hand stilling over the paper. He didn’t offer any more words and Jimin watched as Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed together roughly, and with the music so low now, Jimin could easily hear when Yoongi started tapping the pen against the paper, horribly off timing with the music and it was obvious something else was on the boy’s mind.  
  
"What are you doing?" Jimin asked, walking towards the counter, and the pace of Yoongi’s tapping increased as he approached, his nerves shooting signals through his body as the cells in his body sensed the nearing figure.  
  
"Nothing," Yoongi rushed, dropping the pen next to him so he could flip over the cover of the notebook, shutting it before Jimin could get a good enough look to see what was on the page.  
  
"Yoongi, come on. You don’t need to do that. If you’re doing something private, you just have to say so. You know I wouldn’t invade your privacy." Yoongi’s eyes snapped up to look at Jimin, and all kindness had vanished from the elder’s eyes.  
  
"Why not?" Yoongi pushed.  
  
"Why not… _what_?" Jimin asked, his feet stilling right in front of the counter.  
  
"Why not invade my privacy?" Yoongi continued, standing up from the stool, his hands reaching out to grab the journal from the countertop. "You’ve already invaded every other part of my life."  
  
Jimin’s throat burned and a pain spread across the front of his head. He could feel his heart pick up the pace that Yoongi’s pen had been tapping earlier, and the blood rushed through his body as his brain tried to keep up with his mind’s sudden distress.  
  
"That’s not fair," Jimin murmured, his voice shrinking within himself as he took a half-step back from the counter. His skin was stinging with an undesirable scourge that was consuming him from inside-out.  
  
"No, you’re right. It’s not fair. I’m wrong, you haven’t invaded _every_ other part of my life. Just my space here. My _personal_ space. You only ever come here. You don’t see me outside of here, you don’t know what my life is. You don’t know me, you don’t know anything," Yoongi spat, his eyes growing dark as he continued on.  
  
"I have a home, you know? A life, friends. I even have a _family_. You come here day in and day out, acting as if flipping through a couple albums makes us friends? You think you know a damn thing about me or _anything_ just because you’re some silly little boy that thinks knowing the name of a few albums makes us _friends_? Why do you bother coming, Jimin? Why do you insist? And you can’t give me any of that shit about how I can’t just let people in my life, or how I can’t let people help. I have people in my life, and just because I like doing things on my own doesn’t mean I’m twisty and damaged. I’m not some dark project for you to fix."  
  
Yoongi held on to the journal, clutching onto it as if his life depended on it, and emotions swirled through his body, driving him to a breaking point that Yoongi had never known to even exist. Yoongi kicked his foot out, his shoe catching against the leg of the stool and Jimin jumped a couple feet back as it came clattering to the floor, the sound of it shaking through his body and Jimin’s hands trembled from the shock of Yoongi’s yelling, but he still held his tongue, unable to process anything.  
  
"I mean," Yoongi went on, his voice booming over the music, and had the whole situation not been frightening Jimin so much, he would admire the way Yoongi seemed to flow with the music, the beat building him on as he gave his speech. "I get that you’re this bright and shiny person. You have all these friends, and you’re a dancer and you have this unbelievably happy life that you think everyone else needs to live up to, but you know what, _Jimin_? You spend your days _here_. If you think your life is so much better than mine, or that I’m not living up to my potential and purpose just because I don’t have the same life you do, but where are you _now_ , Jimin? Where do you spend most of your days? _Here_. Can your life be really so much better than mine if you spend all your time away from it? So who really is the twisty and damaged project here, Jimin? Because between the two of us, _I’m_ the one that’s satisfied with what I have, and _you’re_ the one that takes every opportunity to step away from everything that’s yours."  
  
Yoongi finished his explosion by slamming the journal down, the sound roared like thunder in the small shop. All the life had left Yoongi’s eyes. There was no fire in his eyes or warmth in his features. Yoongi’s careful patience and sympathizing eyes had been replaced with the petrifying, alarming tone and frigid, lifeless eyes that filled the entire store with a haunting that Jimin feared would never leave.  
  
Jimin did not want to touch Yoongi. He did not want the accidental brush of fingers. He did not want the casual bumping of arms. He did not want calculative fingers crawling over his skin or holding his face. For the first time in their nearly a year of knowing each other, Yoongi had given him a reason to be afraid, to run away and never look back.  
  
Suddenly the music didn’t matter. Just as easily as it fit into place in every other moment, it didn’t fit here. Where it always seemed to fit to the point where Jimin had to fight the urge not to dance, it was now weighing on the both of them like a burden that was drawing the air out their lungs and bringing them both towards the point of suffocation, leaving them both crumble where they stood. Yoongi didn’t like when the music didn’t fit, so he turned around to slam his hand against the power button, and all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of Yoongi’s tortured breath and the wretched sob that broke through the confines of Jimin’s throat.  
  
That’s when Yoongi snapped out of it.  
  
"Jimin?" Yoongi tried, the warmth in his voice rushing back, the desperation ringing clearly as he pushed his way out from behind the counter and sprinted towards Jimin, his hands reaching out to grab him when he got close enough, but Jimin stepped away, his lower back hitting against one of the centerpieces, and had this been a few minutes earlier, Jimin would not feel trapped, but this was not the Yoongi he had come to know.  
  
Jimin tried to reassure him with the fact that this was somehow still Yoongi, and he would never trap him in a place where he didn’t want to be, but up until a few minutes ago he hadn't thought Yoongi was capable of saying such things to him, especially in such a spiteful and hateful way. He had never known Yoongi to ever snap like that, and he had never seen eyes so unfamiliar to him.  
  
Yoongi held his hands up as soon as Jimin stepped away, even going far enough as to take a few steps back to give Jimin all the space he needed.  
  
" _Fuck, Jimin_ ," Yoongi hissed, his hands going to his hair, pulling at the strands as his knees threatened to buckle underneath him. He had never been able to match Jimin’s grace, but now he was the one pacing around. His feet moved around like a dance. It was by no means elegant or polished, but it was a dance of desperation and the music he danced to was the sound of needy gasping for air and Jimin sniffling, snot filling his sinuses as his arms wrapped around himself, needing the solitude and comfort that came from arms around his body, but he was not welcome to the option of caving into Yoongi’s available arms.  
  
Yoongi continued to pace, unable to look at Jimin for more than a second at a time, the tears streaming down his face too much for Yoongi to cope with looking at. Guilt replaced the blood flowing in his veins, and regret is the only emotion he was capable of feeling as he denied himself the right to go grab Jimin despite the younger boy’s clear wish.  
  
The longer they both stood there, the more they hurt, yet neither of them could find the ability to leave the shop. Yoongi would never be able to forgive himself if he left the boy alone, even if it meant just locking himself in his studio, and despite everything Jimin couldn’t convince himself to walk out of the shop, not wanting to leave Yoongi alone. Even though Yoongi had just hurt him, he still cared very deeply for the boy, and he did not want to leave him to deal with yet another thing on his own.  
  
Jimin stood there weeping, the occasional whimpers eventually coming to a stop as he calmed himself down, focusing on his breathing patterns to will himself to calm down, knowing if he thought about the pain pounding through his cells that he would never be able to walk out of the shop with any dignity.  
  
When they both calmed down, Yoongi was huddled in the corner, trying to secrete himself into the wall, wishing that he could sink into it forever and Jimin hadn’t moved an inch, still wrapping himself up into a false security that he was hoping would at least somewhat convince his brain that he was safe and there wasn’t anything to fear.  
  
"You can’t talk to me like that," Jimin whispered, his voice so hoarse and quiet that Yoongi almost wondered if he had imagined the words coming from the boy, except for when Yoongi finally lifted his face from the floor, he saw Jimin’s heartbreaking eyes staring into his. Yoongi didn’t even attempt to find the words to return to the boy, a part of him understanding that he had lost his right to speak, and now the ball was in Jimin’s court.  
  
"You can’t talk to me like that," Jimin repeated, his voice a bit clearer now as he stood up straight, his arms still holding on tightly. "I’m here because I choose to be, Hyung. I’m not here because you’re dark and twisty because I know you’re not. I told you before that you can’t convince me of something you’re not. You try so hard to make others think you’re this scary person, and you’re right. I don’t know everything about you, so I don’t know why. I get that you like your solitude, and if that’s what you want, you can use your words. You are a grown adult."  
  
His voice was lecturing, but tender. There was something heartbreaking about how in spite of everything the that had just happened, Jimin was still taking the time to adopt a caring tone, as if he felt the need to comfort the older boy cowering in the corner. All Yoongi could do was nod.  
  
"You try and make people think you’re dark, but you don’t fool me," Jimin continued. "You _know_ you don’t fool me, I have _told_ you that you don’t fool me. You don’t get to blow up on me just because you’re mad that I don’t fall for your little act you’ve got going on for yourself. I want to be your friend because of who you are behind this act. I get that I don’t know all of you, but I would really like to. Even if this is a part of who you are, I’d like to know every part of you and why you are the way you are. I do have a happy life, and I’d like you to be a part of that happy life. That’s why I’m here, that’s why I show up, but if that’s not what you want, then that’s something you need to tell me."  
  
Yoongi still didn’t move. Even as Jimin dropped his arms and walked towards the door, Yoongi still didn’t move. He watched with unwavering eyes as Jimin’s hands rested on the door. Yoongi didn’t even open his mouth to speak as Jimin turned back around to look at him.  
  
"When…" Jimin started, but stopped to think before he continued on again. " _If_ you ever like, change your mind about all of this, you know how to find me."  
  
_And with that, Jimin walked out the door._


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long lmao. enjoy yolk n bacon

"It’s been two weeks, Yoongi."

Yoongi’s face was blank, unchanging. The words hardly seemed to reach him as his hands made rough work of scribbling messy letters onto the tattered page of the journal in front of him. There was no music playing. There hadn’t been music playing for a while. The only sounds that filled the shop these days were the sounds of Yoongi’s feet kicking against things in rapid, irregular beats and the occasional tearing off of a page Yoongi deemed unfit, that would follow by the sounds of the paper crumbling and  hitting the trash bin (or rather the floor near the bin).

"Yoongi," Baekhyun hissed, his tone losing its patience. "Are you going to say anything?"

"Nineteen days," Yoongi mumbled.

"What?"

"Nineteen days," he repeated. "It’s been nineteen days, not two weeks. Two weeks would be fourteen days, and it’s been nineteen. More than two weeks. Nineteen days."

Baekhyun stared at him incredulously, unable to really determine the story Yoongi’s eyes could possibly be telling with how the boy refused to look up from his writing, not that he was sure there would be anything to even determine from the look. Yoongi had been locked up more than usual for these past weeks, and he most certainly was not performing some miracles and opening up to Baekhyun.

"Okay," Baekhyun clapped, the sound of his palms rubbing together finally drawing Yoongi’s attention away from his journal.

"What?" Yoongi asked, his hand freezing up along with every other muscle in his body, his bones locking in place as his eyes snapped to the boy in front of him, an ice cold film masking his dark eyes. "What do you want me to do? Call him up? He never gave me his number. Do you want me to go to his house? Oh, wait. I don’t know where he lives either. Should I signal him telepathically? Oh, _wait_. I can’t speak to someone with my mind! Especially when I don’t know where the hell they are. So, please. What the hell is it you wanted me to do? What could I _possibly_ do here? Yes, I fucked up. Yes, I would go back and change it if I could, but I can’t and he won’t show up for me to try and fix it."

"Well, what was it he said again? You know where to find him?"

"He said that if I ever change my mind that I know how to find him," Yoongi rolled his eyes, flipping the journal cover forward to close the journal.

"So you know how to find him! You may not have his home address or his phone number, but you know how to find him, right? He wouldn’t have said that if it wasn’t true. He just put the ball in your court, he didn’t take it off the playing field."

"Just go home, Hyung," Yoongi pushed off the stool, making his way around the counter with the journal clutched against his chest.

"No, you don’t get to push me away like you do everyone else. I’ve been around too long for you to do that to me, okay? I’m your friend. Chanyeol’s your friend. Our future child will basically be your nephew and you _will_ be there to help raise them. These are all facts and—"

"Just because I don’t have rainbows shooting out of my ass doesn’t mean I don’t want friends, Hyung," Yoongi stopped in his tracks to step back behind the counter, leaning down to grab a few folders from the shelf below. "Right now you’re here pestering me. I have a business to run and like, a life to try and live alone here and this is now the third time you’ve come in here to harass me about why a customer hasn’t been coming in my shop."

"A customer? See, this is why he left. We’re here discussing how he hasn’t shown up because of _your_ mistakes and how you don’t have the balls to face your mistakes and find him again, and your defense mechanism is to act like he’s nothing but a stranger that walks into your shop every now and then? He’s a hell of a lot more than that. I’ve only met him a handful of times and I know it. _You_ know it. _Jimin_ —"

"Shut up," Yoongi started.

"Jimin _likes_ you. Somehow you did convince a stranger that walks into your shop every now and then an actual person in your life. A person that feels for you, and a person that makes you feel as well. I think it’s time you start to face the facts that as much as you pretend to want to live a life alone, you actually don’t. You may not need it, and I’m not trying to say you are. I know you’re perfectly capable of being on your own, but you don’t _want_ to."

Yoongi’s feet stopped in their tracks, his muscles loosening up from their angry stature to fall into something of a bit of confusion, the edges of his lips tugging up before a laugh broke out. He shook his head, leaning up against the wall as his laughing started to rock through his whole body.

Baekhyun raised his eyebrow, his eyebrows furrowed together as he stared Yoongi down from across the floor, a bit concerned that Yoongi had finally lost it. Being locked up in this shop in and day out had finally gotten to him and here he was now, having a mental breakdown right before his eyes.

"Yoongi?" Baekhyun stepped towards Yoongi, trying to make a quick judgment of the situation.

"You think that’s what that was?" Yoongi choked out, his lungs working hard to get the words clearly out in between the rolls of laughter pushing from his chest. He stood there, moving all the possessions into one hand, taking a moment to catch his breath and calm the laughing down before he continued again.

"You think we were _into_ each other? That he liked me? That I liked _him_? Fuck, dude. You’ve really got all the wrong ideas here. At best we were friends. _Just_ friends. And yeah, I might care about him, but that? That was not romance. Believe it or not, I don’t think about dating or falling in love with every person that walks through the shop door. Bells are always ringing, but they’re not ringing because I’m in love, they’re ringing because they are on the door, and they ring because that’s what they’re designed to do. They ring when they move. It’s not some sign from the heavens telling me I need to get down on one knee for the boy, it’s a sign that someone walked through the door. That’s it. You’re looking too deep into something that isn’t there."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, I’m sure."

"Because it just seems—"

" _Baekhyun!_ I’m _sure_. I think I’d know if I had fallen madly in love with someone. Especially someone like Jimin. Yes, I do enjoy his company, and yes, he is very easy to like, but only as a friend. I enjoy his company as a friend, and nothing more than that. Even calling him my friend would be a stretch. I appreciate your concern for my love life and shit, but I promise you I don’t have a thing for Jimin. It’s been like what, nine months? Maybe pushing ten? I mean, you know I’m a bit private and all, but if I had a ten-month long thing going on with someone, I’m sure I’d tell you at least by now."

Baekhyun stared at him in silence, his expression at a standstill as he moved his hand to rest on top of the counter, his eyes shifting towards his long fingers that were propped up, bent at the knuckles as if they were poised to start tapping against the dark wood, but they didn’t. He stood still, thinking. Thinking was the only way to get into Yoongi’s mind. His lips parted a few times, closing a few moments after each time, testing each thought before he finally did speak.

"Does Jimin know that?"

"I don’t know what he knows, but if he thinks any otherwise that isn’t on me. I can guarantee you I have never made a pass at him or anything of the sorts to put the idea of a relationship with me in his mind."

"You know, sometimes when people are meant for each other, it doesn’t have to be a thought that’s put in anyone’s mind. You don’t need to think all the time. I know thinking is your thing, your forte and all, but that’s not all how the world works."

Yoongi gawked at the boy in front of him, the slightest shake of his head stirring before he pushed off the wall, turning into the open door frame of the back room, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

_3:23._

The time on the digital clock glared at Yoongi, the bright red burning holes through his eyes into the back of his head. The nuisance seeped through every vein in his body, moving like molasses at the coldest peak of winter. Everything in his body was slow. His eyes even struggled to close, and he was pretty sure his heartbeat might worry some doctors had they checked the tempo of the muscle.

Most nights were like this. They were slow, each minute on the clock feeling like an hour. The same went for the days, though the steady pace of this season’s customers usually kept his body moving at a pace deemed functional enough to be considered _healthy_ or even _human_. At night, Yoongi didn’t have to force himself to keep up appearances. Especially with how long the days had grown, he seemed to have more time to tackle the never-ending stack of paperwork, product projections, and bills that made a home across each surface in the back room.

He could hardly bring himself to ever leave the shop anymore. He told himself it was because it was that he was so far ahead of all of his responsibilities, but honestly when the clocked switched from midnight back to single digit numbered hours that read before seven, there were parts of him that wondered about Jimin, and it would have been ignorant for him to do anything but admit that the other parts were waiting to see if Jimin would show up.

_3:24._

Yoongi rolled over on the tattered couch, his hands tugging at the patchy blanket to pull it with him, refusing to subject his body to the cool air of the shop. Even though he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pretty thick pair of sweats, it was hard for him to feel anything but the threats of the cold desperate to crawl underneath his skin.

It was somewhat humorous when Yoongi thought about it. _Ironic_. Everyone thought he was so cold, and he hardly did anything but act so cold and now all Yoongi ever felt was the need to protect himself from it, fearing the discomfort it brought to his skin and would easily travel down through his body and into the dead center of his body.

This, of course, was a point Yoongi was adamant to protect himself from at all cost. It would not be good for his body to become overrun by a battle of the temperature when he already struggled enough as it was. He didn’t need to suffer in his solitude.

Unable to get his muscles and bones to shift into an agreeable position, he rolled back over, his limbs catching and tangling up in the blanket. Had it not been his only source of warmth, Yoongi would have ripped the blanket to shreds for giving him such a difficult time as his eyes fell upon the clock again.

_3:25._

There was no way Jimin would show up at this hour of the day or any hour for that matter. There was no need for him to. Even if the boy had wanted to return to Yoongi, this was not a reasonable hour that Jimin would go out of his way to come to the shop. The boy probably didn’t even know he was sleeping in the shop.

He probably thought Yoongi was off in some orphanage across town, chopping up children and cooking them up to serve them up as a peace offering to some twisted higher power that demanded the eyes of dead, defenseless children to earn passage into the preferable afterlife. Yoongi was a horrible person, right? Of course, the torturing of innocent children would be an average Thursday night.

No, that was ridiculous. Yoongi was an asshole, not a monster. He was an asshole that all but slapped Jimin across the face and threw him out of the shop. Actually, that probably would have been easier to recover from. At least then there probably wouldn’t be the cruel words spinning around in either of their minds.

 _Why not invade my privacy? You’ve already invaded every other part of my life_. Uncalled for.

 _You don’t know me, you don’t know anything_. Unfair.

 _You come here day in and day out, acting as if flipping through a couple albums makes us friends?_ Unkind.

 _I’m not some dark project for you to fix_. Unnecessary.

 _Can your life be really so much better than mine if you spend all your time here? So who really is the twisty and damaged project here, Jimin? Because between the two of us, I’m the one that’s satisfied with what I have, and you’re the one that takes every opportunity to step away from everything that’s yours._ No, monster. He was a monster. He’d rather eat the children than be in this position.

_3:26._

_I’m here because I choose to be, Yoongi._ Kind.

 _I get that you like your solitude, and if that’s what you want, you can use your words. You are a grown adult._ Understanding.

 _You try and make people think you’re dark, but you don’t fool me._ Patient.

 _I get that I don’t know all of you, but I would really like to. Even if this is a part of who you are, I’d like to know every part of you and why you are the way you are. I do have a happy life, and I’d like you to be a part of that happy life._ Loving.

Even after Yoongi had said everything, Jimin was still able to offer up a caring hand. It may have been in the form of a lecture of some sorts, but it was because he cared. Jimin cared about him just as much as he cared for Jimin. _No_ , Jimin cared more. Or at least he had a stronger capability of showing it.

 _If you ever like, change your mind about all of this, you know how to find me._ A test.

_3:26… still 3:26._

 

* * *

 

Yoongi wasn’t quite sure at what point his body actually found the capability to fall asleep. All he knew was that it was somewhere between the thought that he should repaint the shop and that he should replace some of the old shelves. He was doing so well lately, and maybe going over the walls with a lighter shade of color would attract more customers.

Whatever the time it was that he did eventually relax enough to get some rest, he knew before opening his eyes to check the time that it was a couple minutes past the time he was supposed to have the shop ready for the day.

Without a second thought, he forced himself off the couch. The muscles and bones in his legs ached in protest at the sudden awakening, not having yet caught up with his brain in the situation at hand. His hands grabbing out blindly, his fingers instinctively clutched into the rough fabric of an old pair of sweats and with great care, Yoongi attempted to shove each leg into the pants without losing his balance or banging a limb against any rough corners in the room that threatened to bring harm to his body during such a challenging morning.

It wasn’t that Yoongi was expecting someone to be wanting inside the shop at such an early hour, but Yoongi always prided himself on his work and dedication, and though he was far from having the life that more people considered "ideal" and "perfect", Yoongi was far more put together in most. He handled everything by himself, and that was certainly a lot more than most other people could say, but right now he knew things were tipping off his usual scale of comfort and landing into a world of unpracticed life.

 

* * *

 

"I need your help," Yoongi blurted out, resigning from his resolve to be the last to break. He pushed aside the empty bowl in front of him, continuing on his speech before Chanyeol or Baekhyun had a chance to intercede, though both of them were in momentary shock with Yoongi’s declaration for needing help that neither of them had thought of the words to follow him up in the short amount of time that had passed. "I miss Jimin. Like, I miss him a lot, okay? And before either of you start going on some shit about love or him changing me, I really just want my friend back. You two are my friends and you’re great, you really are, but I don’t dream of getting on my knees for either of you, whether it just be one knee with a ring or two with a cock—"

"Cock ring!" Chanyeol exclaimed, and Baekhyun’s snicker was paired with a harsh kick from Yoongi’s foot right into Baekhyun’s shin.

"Shut the fuck _up_ ," Yoongi hissed, his eyes narrowing in tight as he glared at the couple from across the table. Baekhyun quickly regained his composure, but Chanyeol still had a sloppy grin on his face that was pulling at Yoongi’s nerves. "Watch yourself, buddy. The only reason I haven’t kicked you either is that my leg can’t reach you, but I will get up and stab you with the sharpest object I can find if you don’t take me seriously."

"Okay, okay," Chanyeol surrendered, holding his palms up in a gesture of peace before he dropped them back down to rest in his lap. "What exactly do you need help with?"

"Well, I know the dance company he’s signed with, and they do have a recital schedule on their site and all, but the next show isn’t for months and I’m not even sure if he’s performing then. I can’t wait months at a time, waiting show after show for him _maybe_ to show up. For all I know, he may never be performing again and he’ll get tired of it and move across the world to a dance company that will let him perform and then I really never will see him again."

"Yoongi, I don’t think that’s actually going to happen," Baekhyun cut in. "I think you’re being a tad bit dramatic for someone who 'doesn’t care' or whatever it is you’re claiming these days."

"Okay, maybe, but I’ve had the same friends for a long time. Like, literally for years so excuse me if I’m not used to having brand new friends," Yoongi grunted, looking down at the table in front of him.

The room was silent for a moment and eventually, Yoongi looked up to meet the incredulous expressions that Baekhyun and Chanyeol both shared as they stared at him from his seat.

"Okay, don’t look at me like that. What did I say now? Come on, spit it out. Just tell me I’m an ass instead of giving me those stupid looks."

"Brand new friendship?" Chanyeol gaped. "Yoongi, look. I may not show up to nag you as much as Baekhyun does, but I have met the boy. I have _seen_ you with him. We may not all be in agreement over what exactly the relationship between the two of you is, but let’s be clear with the obvious facts here. It’s a little bit more than 'brand new', isn’t it?"

Yoongi remained quiet as Chanyeol turned his head back to Baekhyun, setting his eating utensils down as his eye’s met his husband’s.

"When did all of this start again? Was it in the spring?" Chanyeol asked, banishing Yoongi from this part of the discussion.

"No," Baekhyun shook his head. "I think when I met him Yoongi hadn’t met him more than once or twice. Something about a record player is all I can remember. I remember it was the night we decided for sure to adopt, though, so that was a little bit after summer started."

"And it’s March now, so that puts it at about ten months," Chanyeol finished, making quick work of doing the math in his head.

"Ten months," Baekhyun agreed. "So basically a year."

"A year, Yoongi?!" Chanyeol turned back to the younger boy. Yoongi’s expression had grown bored, not really hurt by the interaction that had just occurred in front of him, which if anything just seemed to make Chanyeol a little bit more annoyed. "I mean, a year is no twenty years or anything, but most people consider 'brand new' as maybe a few months. Even six months could maybe be pushing as 'brand new', but you’ve known this boy for nearly a year, and you’re acting like you just met him? You’re so completely dense. No wonder he got pissed off at you for saying those things. I would’ve walked out, too."

"Okay, yeah. We get it," Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Yes, we’ll help," Chanyeol exhaled, the exasperation thickly coating his breath. "So where are you at in your master plan?"

"I know when his company’s next recital is, but I don’t want to wait that long," Yoongi repeated. "There’s no rehearsal schedule posted on the website and that’s probably for creepy ass moments like this where someone’s trying to track down and _stalk_ one of their dancers. Oh my god… Am I stalking him?"

"I can get his rehearsal schedule for you," Baekhyun offered, reaching for the glass of water in front of him.

"Okay, genius. How do you plan on doing that? You don’t know anyone that works for the company, and I know damn well you don’t dance there."

"I know plenty people there," Baekhyun corrected. "Including Jimin. In fact, I know he’s at rehearsal tonight."

Yoongi didn’t skip a bit as he pushed away from the table, taking a quick moment to check his back pockets to make sure he still had his wallet and phone on him before starting towards the door.

"Min Yoongi, sit your ass back down," Baekhyun jeered. "His thing will be over any minute now. By the time you got there, he’d be long gone. Now sit back down so we can discuss this like civil adults. Fuck, you’re usually so damn level-headed, but of course, your impulsive moments decide to pop up at the most ridiculous and inconvenient of times."

Yoongi turned on his heels, making no move back towards his chair as he looked down at Baekhyun from where he stood a few yards away from the edge of the table. His lips still held a dull, unimpressive composure, but his eyes were full of different emotions swirling together, a film of chaos covering them all, as Yoongi was usually so controlled that he didn’t have to deal with so many thoughts at once.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi asked, his tongue spitting out a sharp tone that Baekhyun had been on the receiving end several times before, but never over a person. "You watched me struggle over this for weeks and you had the solution the whole fucking time? How do you know all of this? Are you talking to him directly?"

"Yes, I gave him my number months ago. We both left the shop at the same time and we went down the street for some coffee, and we’ve hung out several times besides that. Even Chanyeol has met him and turns out he’s friends with some of Chanyeol’s friends, too. I don’t know if you realized how many connections and mutual friends there are in this situation, but you probably would’ve eventually run into him eventually even if he hadn’t come into your shop."

"Your friends from where?" Yoongi turned his eyes to Chanyeol.

"From the dance company. You know I help with choreographing. I do some assisting for the lower level classes at the same company he’s at. Not all of us ignore everyone when we walk into a room. Some of us make an effort to get to know the people we see on multiple occasions."

"So you know Jimin?"

"Probably not as well as you do, no, but I know some other people pretty well that happen to also be friends with him. How did you not know any of this?" Chanyeol inquired.

"Maybe I don’t know him as well as you seem to think I do," Yoongi shrugged, and a sickly silence filled the air, causing even Yoongi to grow uneasy in the quietness of the room and he settled on finally moving back towards the chair, making slow work of bending his legs to sit back down. "Have either of you seen him?"

"Since you two fought?" Baekhyun specified, continuing on when Yoongi gave off a little nod. "No, he’s been really busy. Plus, we’re technically your _friends_ , and when couples fight—"

"We _aren’t_ a couple," Yoongi corrected, growing silent again when Baekhyun shot him a look.

"When couples fight, even if there isn’t a 'sides' thing, the respectful thing to do is not intrude on pre-established friendships, especially when those friendships have lasted the majority of your life."

"Well that’s stupid," Yoongi chipped in. "This isn’t a 'sides’ thing, and we aren’t a couple. If you want to be friends with him, you can be. You’re clearly talking to him anyway, and you know where he is at this moment anyway."

"Well, we have still been talking to him, just… We haven’t hung out. Not because he isn’t allowed to or we don’t want to, but I just think it makes him a little sad because he misses you. Like, he misses you just as much as you miss him and even though he is our friend, we automatically go to you in the divorce," Baekhyun clarified. "And before you say anything, that goes for even if it’s just a friend divorce since you’re so insistent on there being nothing romantic here."

"Divorce is a legal matter. I didn’t sign papers to be his friend."

"Yoongi?" Chanyeol jumped back in, his voice a bit softer than usual.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"What the f—" Yoongi started, but his voice was drained out by Baekhyun beginning to speak again.

"Chanyeol is just trying to say that you need to go see him. Jimin misses you, and as nice as it is to see you putting some focus into real people instead of just your shop, this moody version of you isn’t something we like to see. Not just because it’s annoying, but also because you’re our friend and we really care about you, okay? We all know you love your shop and your music, and we love it, too. We’re so proud of everything you have accomplished, but a person is different. You can do what you want to your shop and you work so hard for that right, but a person is another body, another soul. You can put work into them, hell, you can put more than work _into_ them, but there’s another person trying on the other end. And we’re not saying you don’t put effort or care into us, but Jimin is different. Even if this isn’t a romantic love, you do love him and it’s different with him. It’s nice to see you investing in another life."

"Yeah, what he said," Chanyeol agreed, his grin spread wide from one ear to the other, and the couple shared a loving look that Yoongi yearned to understand, but resting in the fact that Chanyeol and Baekhyun shared a bond that he’d never be a part of, and that was okay with him.

"Thanks," Yoongi replied, and though it was just a single word, the other two knew the monologue had actually gone into his head and his brain was sorting through it. He had finally paused to listen, and he was taking it to heart.

"Do you want his number?" Baekhyun offered.

"No," Yoongi shook his head.

"Yoongi, what the hell?" Baekhyun groaned.

"If he wants to give me his number he can," Yoongi shrugged. "But I do have a favor to ask of you."

"If you’re going to ask me to cover your shop so you can go creep at his place of work—"

"No," Yoongi interrupted. "Do you know where he lives?"

"Okay, remember earlier when you asked if what you were doing was stalking him? I think this is your answer right here."

"Baekhyun," Yoongi pleaded. "I’m being serious here. Do you know where he lives or not?"

"Yeah, he lives with a couple of roommates down at that house behind the library. What are you planning?"

"Remind me to tell you later," Yoongi raised up again, this time making a point not to stop as he made his way to the door.

"Yoongi, we haven’t even had dessert!" Chanyeol called out, but Yoongi was already out the door. Chanyeol frowned as he looked back at Baekhyun, the table empty except for the glasses of water and empty plates and bowls that were scattered around the table.

"If you think Yoongi grows up fast, wait until we have _actual_ kids to raise," Baekhyun teased, suppressing a laugh at Chanyeol’s tortured expression that quickly turned into a horrid attempt at a display of rage.

"Okay, you are definitely not getting dessert either."

 

* * *

 

Yoongi’s feet moved quickly. The night’s breeze did little to affect his pace as he rushed through the light crowd of pedestrians that scattered the streets on his path towards the library. Yoongi knew exactly which house Baekhyun had been talking about. There was one single house that shared a lot with the library and though Yoongi hadn’t really made it his routine to visit the library or the house behind it, the town was small and he didn’t have to put much thought into mapping his walk to the house

The travel was a blur to Yoongi. One moment he had been sitting at Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s dining table, and the next his fist was paused in the air, his knuckles hardly more than a couple inches away from striking up against the painted door, but now he was frozen.

He was frozen in a world that dragged the seconds into hours and the minutes into decades. It was similar to the way the nights seemed to last forever, letting time play some cruel trick on him to make the days of pain and loss drag on as much as possible to the point where all he could do was play each moment of every wrongdoing over and over in his head, playing on some sick loop that twisted in each recount of the memories, tying his stomach into messy knots that he wasn’t sure he’d be capable of untying later.

He began to feel sick. He felt pain both from the knowledge that he had hurt such a sweet, caring boy, but also from the distance that had been forced between him and the boy for so long. The distance _he_ had forced by being such an ungrateful, hateful ass. Jimin was not to blame. Jimin ran out, yes, but because of Yoongi. Yoongi had made him want to leave. Yoongi had made him want to give up, and that was something Yoongi didn’t know how to cope with.

His hand dropped back to his side as his pain dropped into the deepest pits inside him, deciding to let his body swallow it up and absorb it, figuring he deserved to let it crawl through his skin and thoughts for a bit. Even if he did know how to deal with it and just let it go, he didn’t want to. Yoongi didn’t want to let go of Jimin.

Yoongi’s hands threw his hood over his head before they found their way into the pockets of his jackets, and the bottom of his shoes made a scraping sound against the concrete below his feet as he turned his back to the door. Jimin had left him. He didn’t want to deal with him then, so he probably didn’t want to deal with him when he had just gotten out of such a late dance practice. He would approach Jimin later, just perhaps at a more reasonable hour on a more reasonable day.

He let his feet drag on the concrete, finding solace in the way his feet pulled against the concrete. He knew it wasn’t good for the bottom of his shoes, but he found comfort in the fact that he could cause some destruction in public, even if it was just something minor. He wanted to punch things and scream, but for now, the raking of rubber against concrete would just have to do.

He turned the corner onto the street adjacent to Jimin’s, taking much longer to get away from the boy’s house than he had taken to get there in the first place. He let his mind sink into his thoughts, beginning the newfound ritual of replaying the fights over in his head. His eyes were focused on the ground as if a projector was displaying the scenes in front of him as he walked, tuning out from everything else in the world.

His shoulder snagged on something, and he turned around his in time to see a person catching their balance behind him.

"Sorry," Yoongi mumbled. "I didn’t see you there, I wasn’t paying attention."

"Oh, no! That’s my bad completely. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I just—" the boy stopped in his speech, his head snapping up from where he stood. "Hyung?"

Yoongi blinked as the boy turned to look back at him, his blood beginning to race as the features and voice began to sink in. It took him a few moments for the realization to hit. He wasn't used to this voice without music playing in the background, or the soft echo of his voice in a near-empty shop following suit, and he most certainly wasn't used to the light of a streetlamp hitting those lips and the tip of that nose hitting at an angle so different from the overhead lights that made a home on the ceiling of his shop. _Fuck_.

"Jimin."


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A BIT CONFUSING until you get until the end. so like, just stick with me. also like..... don't hate me. okay bye xx

"What are you doing here?"

" _I…_ " Yoongi paused. He wanted to look around. He wanted to look away. It was instinct to look away, but he just couldn’t bring himself to break eye contact, seeing as this was the first time he had seen Jimin in weeks. He had almost forgotten what his face looked like. _Almost_. His subconscious had finally taken control, deeming his conscious mind unfit for determining the controls. It had screwed up everything plenty enough in the past ten months as it is.

Everything around them wilted at the ends, the rest of the world shifting away from the space around them. All that was left in existence was the two boys standing there, _waiting_ underneath the tenebrous lighting provided by the streetlamp that haunted the chilling air above them.

All Yoongi could do was stare at the boy in front of him, making note of the way the ill-lighting scattered over the high points of his features, accentuating his clear skin and the curve of his lips. Yoongi knew Jimin was a beautiful man. Though he never pictured Jimin in a romantic or sexual way, he knew that the boy was quite attractive and he was sure there were probably many people out there that _did_ picture him in all the ways everyone else seemed to think Yoongi should.

And despite the fact that Yoongi had never even really given the idea the courtesy even a moment of consideration, under the kindle of the streetlamp where they each stood now, Yoongi couldn’t do anything _but_ stare at Jimin’s lips. He imagined how they would feel up against his, about how they would part, allowing for ragged breaths and desperate lungs to keep up with wandering hands and tenacious fingers, determined to become proficient and fluent when it comes to learning every inch of skin of the boy in front of him.

There was a snap inside of him. He was pretty sure his bones were breaking underneath his skin, somehow morphing him into a different person with a completely different structure, but he felt no pain. There was no suffering when it came to his body caving into the feelings of Jimin. There was no more struggle, no more fear. All thoughts of ignorance and distaste for the boy in front of him were abandoned, and suddenly it wasn’t just about earning his forgiveness and developing a real friendship, but now it was also about building up the courage to grab Jimin and finally get a real taste of him.

He hadn’t been completely blind to the things around him. It was similar to when you get water trapped in your ears, and a film is temporarily placed between you and the world around you. You can see them, and you can hear everyone for the most part, but the water forces an echo from the inside of you, and it's hard for you to focus on anything except the fact that suddenly you can _hear_ your own heartbeat. It had been too difficult for him to focus on anything besides what was just inside of him, but now the water had cleared out and the world came back to him in a matter of moments.

Jimin came back to him in a matter of moments.

"I wanted to do something. Try something, I mean. I wanted to try something," Yoongi finally finished. He wasn’t torn from his thoughts. Everything was fluid and whole now, working in unison to build up this moment in all its glory.

His heart was beating fast, yet he wasn’t nervous. His lungs felt the weight of the world, yet he had never had an easier time breathing. The air was chilling to the touch, yet he had never felt so warm. His thoughts were racing, jumbled together in an effort to think through every detail at once, yet he was frozen in time, holding his cool together during every dragging, peaceful second. He was far from any bed he had ever known, but he never felt more at home.

"Try what?" Jimin poised. There was something in his voice that Yoongi knew meant forgiveness had already been given, and that just made everything feel more right. Jimin wasn’t angry. He had told Yoongi to find him when he figured out what he wanted, and that’s exactly what he had done. Jimin knew the words that would come with it, and there wasn’t any point in anything needing to be said. Everything had been put back together under the stars and the streetlamp, and there wasn’t anything that could possibly change that in this moment.

Without another thought, Yoongi shifted forward. The edges of his shoes each stepped respectively in front of Jimin’s, their feet aligning perfectly as Yoongi’s hands reached up. Palms slid over skin, and bodies stepped closer together. Neither of them could tell whether it was seconds or hours between the time it took for Yoongi’s hands to move from his sides up to Jimin’s face. All Yoongi could think about was how soft Jimin was, and how nothing but his usual joy seemed to glisten in the boy’s eyes as they stared into his own. All Yoongi could think about was Jimin.

Everything kicked into overdrive as he pulled Jimin in closer, a wave of security crashing through him as their foreheads met. A safety net dropped around them, fastening them deeper into their world of rainy nights and second-day takeout food, a world that until this moment had been limited to the walls of Yoongi’s shop and the street right outside. This was the first time their haven had broken those boundaries and ventured out into the real world.

Before either of them could fully register one another, Yoongi’s lips were on top of Jimin’s. Jimin quickly became an equal partner, his fingers bunching the fabric of Yoongi’s jacket into a tight fist as he pulled the elder boy closer, drawing him in nearer.

There wasn’t a switch that either of them could tell between five minutes ago and now. Hell, there wasn’t a difference that they could tell between now and the past ten months. It was as if this was always there. There was never a moment where this didn’t exist, or when Yoongi couldn’t physically taste the flavor of Jimin’s chapstick against his own chapped lips.

And then Yoongi’s hands were everywhere.

Jimin clung tighter onto him, grasping onto Yoongi as if this moment was everything. His one task now was to hold onto him now and to never let go. Now especially since he had managed to get his hands on Yoongi, he couldn’t ever think of letting go.

The fingers Jimin felt curling into the tuft at hair protruding from the base of his neck made him feel craved, and the hand dropping down to his waist made him feel needed. Jimin hadn’t thought this was what he needed to have every part of him scream that this was his wholeness, but he had never felt like he belonged more in anyone’s arms than he did in this moment.

There was a sense of urgency among the two boys. There was no fight for dominance between them. There was just the satisfaction of finally meeting together like this, similar to the feeling of coming home after being away for years. It was both old and new at the same time. They already knew every step and every touch, though technically they had never come together in this manner. Still, they both knew.

When they finally pulled apart, they had lost track of time. Neither of them seemed to care, or at least they didn’t show any sign of it. Somewhere along the mix, Jimin had ended up with his back pressed up against the pole of the streetlamp. He could feel the stinging cold of it through his shirt, but all it really did was make him appreciate the warmth Yoongi’s body provided with him.

"That," Yoongi pushed out between a few heavy breaths.

"What?" Jimin asked, still trying to wrap his brain around the moment.

"That’s what I wanted to try," Yoongi grinned. His smile quickly turned into something radiant. Jimin would have liked to say that there was a smile that had never been there before, that he had just brought on a smile that the world no one had ever seen, but this was better. Jimin had seen this smile before. This was better than some new smile. This was Yoongi’s smile.

Keeping a fistful of Yoongi’s shirt clenched firmly in his palm, Jimin lifts his right hand up to brush his fingers along the surface of Yoongi’s cheek. He paused for a moment, taking a moment to make sure his breath was even before he spoke.

"Do you, uh… Do you maybe want to try again?"

"Again?" Yoongi raised his eyebrow, his smile unfaltering as Jimin’s fingers curled tighter around Yoongi’s shirt.

"Yeah, well, I mean. If you want to, I’d kinda be into that, maybe. Like, I’d be totally fine with if you wanted to try that again. I wasn’t quite paying all that much attention the first time. So like, if you want to try again I promise I’ll focus better."

Yoongi’s hand slipped up to capture Jimin’s fingers from his face, locking them together with his own. He held on tightly, urging the boy’s body closer to his own as he set out seeking to steal another kiss that Jimin was willing waiting to give to him.

 

* * *

 

There are situations we like to imagine. We let our minds play, freely allowing them to create scenarios in which we are pushed to act in, and we run things by of how the people around us may react. While the actions in these simulations may be quite plausible, they are not a reality.

"What are you doing here?"

The brain processes fantasy and reality very differently. The neurons used to process each of the two actually travel in two different directions. It’s like the math problem where two cars are speeding towards each other, and you have to use velocity to figure out how long the drivers have until they crash, however, it’s much more complicated because the two cars are traveling in two different directions, yet they are still going to find a way to crash.

" _I…_ " Yoongi paused. He wanted to look around. He wanted to look away. It was instinct to look away, but he just couldn’t bring himself to break eye contact, seeing as this was the first time he had seen Jimin in weeks. He had almost forgotten what his face looked like. _Almost_. His subconscious had finally taken control, deeming his conscious mind unfit for determining the controls. It had screwed up everything plenty enough in the past ten months as it is.

And then he _did_ look away.

Jimin waited patiently, knowing that Yoongi worked better when he was given time to map them out in his mind. Bumping into Jimin on the street was obviously not something that had been a part of Yoongi’s plan, but it was just as equally clear that he did have something on his mind and Jimin was giving him the chance to say it.

"I wanted to do something. Try something, I mean. I wanted to try something," Yoongi choked out. His eyes burned with the effort of holding back all emotions. He really missed Jimin, and parts of him wanted to scream and cry even though Yoongi really was not the type.

"Try what?"

Yoongi finally looked back at Jimin, his eyes barely shining through the light of the street lamp above them. The hood resting on top of the elder boy’s head really wasn’t doing much favor in illuminating his face. It was dark enough with the time of day, and since most of their only light source was being blocked by the barrier of his hood, there wasn’t much ease in trying pick out the features of his face (not that Jimin needed the light to know every curve of a lip or arch of a nose).

"I wanted to try and find you, you know?" Yoongi started, a bit of ease washing over his face and Jimin knew well enough to know that meant he had found his words. "I don’t know if you’d believe it, but I actually really started to fucking miss you. I always look up and expect to be seeing you, but I never do anymore. Or like, sometimes I do, but then you turn around and then it’s not actually you, it’s someone else."

"That’s not my fault, Yoongi. I told you—"

" _No, let me finish!_ " Yoongi begged, the distress filling up to the rim of his voice. "Please, I mean. Please let me finish. I know I was a complete and utter dick to you, but you told me to find you when I was ready and now I am, but I need to talk now. If you wanna tell me to fuck off afterward I’ll keep walking right down the way I was going, I promise, but please give me this chance? Please?"

They both stood in silence, waiting for something to happen. When Jimin didn’t respond, Yoongi continued.

"You’re not there anymore. I know it’s my fault, but that doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t there and that I don’t fucking miss you. Baekhyun, who I didn’t know you were friends with, by the way, apparently knew how to find you this whole time, but he didn’t say a word. And like, I’m not mad that you’re friends with someone I’m friends with, I’m really not, but it just made me realize that even Baekhyun has been a better friend to you, and I’ve known you longer. I’ve spent more time with you, but I don’t even have your phone number."

Jimin looked like he was about to interrupt again, the signs of an upcoming protest breaking out across his face, but the look in Yoongi’s eyes told him to stop.

"My point isn’t that you haven’t given me your number, it’s the fact that I never thought to ask. Like, you bring me lunch. I stopped buying myself apples because I know you’re going to bring me some every day, and if you know you aren’t going to be by the next day you bring me two. You bring me coffee, you track rain into my store, you keep the dust off my shelves from all your moving of the records, you try so hard not to dance around my shop when you hear music playing, you make it so I don’t have to be _alone_. I’m not alone anymore. I didn’t _not_ need to be alone before, I was content. I really was, but now I know the difference between being content and being happy. You being in my life makes me happy."

"So the point is you want me in your life?"

" _No_ ," Yoongi groaned, stepping up to Jimin, his legs stretching wide so that he could do so in two steps. "Well, yes. I do want you in my life, but that’s not the point."

"Then what’s your point, Yoongi? What is it that you want?"

Jimin was in distress. Yoongi could tell from the tone of his voice and the drop in his face. Yoongi was nearly positive that he wasn’t upset by the notion of them being friends and around each other, but he was absolutely certain that it had something to do with how confusing Yoongi could be with his desires. In an attempt to comfort him, Yoongi reached down and took Jimin’s hands in his own. That’s something friends do sometimes, right? When your friend is upset, you hold their hand.

" _I want your phone number._ "

"That’s all you want?" Jimin tore his hands from Yoongi, freeing them up so that he could easily push Yoongi away. Yoongi froze up as Jimin started to turn away from him and walk down the sidewalk that Yoongi now knew led to his house. He stayed silent as Jimin’s face disappeared. He stayed silent as the sounds of shoes against sidewalk filled the air, and he stayed silent when Jimin turned back around and headed back towards him.

"You know," Jimin started, his tone sharp. This was different from the last time Jimin was upset. Yoongi knew this tone. "I’m sure I’ve said this to you before, but you’re an asshole. Like, a real fucking _ass_. You say mean things to me, you ignore me when I’m right in front of you, I tell you that you’re hurting me, and you take a nearly a fucking month to try and find me. Actually, you didn’t find me. You ran into me. This was an accident. You didn’t arrange this, you didn’t find me. You bumped into me. This doesn’t count as you coming to find me because this is not… _Fuck_ , Yoongi! I actually would hit you if I were a person that believed in violence."

"Jimin, I—"

"No, Yoongi. Shut up. Now it’s _my_ turn to talk. I may have been the one that walked out of the store, but you were the one that pushed me on my way out. No, not even. You were the one that pushed me in the direction of the door. I wasn’t planning on leaving you, or whatever this 'friendship' is. You did this. And when you do _'find'_ me, all you can say is that you want my _phone number_? Do you think those are the magic words to make all of this better?"

Yoongi let the air sit. He really knew better than to laugh, so he held his tongue. He knew Jimin had missed him, too, and that this was just blowing off his steam. Yoongi knew more about anger than most, and he knew how to read the motives behind it. Still, he couldn’t keep himself from asking the question.

"So, _can_ I have it? Or is that a hard pass?"

"I take what I said back," Jimin glared, steam rolling off his body in response to the anger. Yoongi had seen him upset before, and he had heard a lot of nastier things from the boy, but Yoongi knew the boy was actually pissed.

"Which part?"

"The part where I basically said I’m not a violent man. I could kill you right now."

"You’re not mad about the phone number thing, Jimin," Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You’re mad at the fact that you missed me. You know you missed me and I’m pretty sure you could admit it up until the point you actually saw me because then you had to admit to me that you missed me. If you miss someone, you give them power."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Someone you missed. Keep up, Jimin-ah. We just went over this," Yoongi declared, reaching out to grab Jimin’s arm and pulling him back underneath the light of the streetlamp. "And someone that missed you just as much in return, if not more."

Jimin let Yoongi move him, his anger beginning to turn around as Yoongi drew him into his chest. He remained quiet as he accepted Yoongi, pulling his arm from Yoongi’s hold only so that he could wrap both of his arms around the boy’s middle. He let his lungs breathe in the older boy’s scent, letting the comfort wash over him. Yoongi smelled just like his own shop. It had never dawned on him what Yoongi might smell like. He had never really gotten the chance to meet Yoongi except for a few feet outside of the shop door, but it seemed fitting that he brought the smell along with him.

Jimin had missed the smell of the painted wood and the minty air freshener. He had missed Yoongi.

"I missed you," Jimin folded, his silken voice echoing the only words that mattered to either of them right now.

"I’m right here now. I promise I’m going to say."

 

* * *

 

"I asked you a question," Jimin snarled, pulling Yoongi away from his sinking haze. "Are you gonna say anything, or can I leave now?"

The tone of his voice sent an unfamiliar feeling down the back of Yoongi’s spine, causing the cells in his body to hit a juncture of confusion. Not used to people taking a stance against him, and especially not used to Jimin growing such a tone left him there unknowing of how to react. Still, he said nothing, so Jimin repeated himself.

"Yoongi, what are you _doing_ here?"

" _I…_ " Yoongi paused. He wanted to look around. He wanted to look away. It was instinct to look away, but he just couldn’t. His subconscious had finally taken control, deeming his conscious mind unfit for determining the controls. It had screwed up everything plenty enough in the past ten months as it is.

"You, what? Look, I’m really tired right now. I just had a really fucking long day and like, you can see how late it is and I’m _just_ getting home from one of the longest rehearsals I’ve ever had to work through so I’m tired and cranky, and frankly I am not in the mood to be dealing with you once again standing there and saying all the wrong things."

"I’m not even saying anything!" Yoongi countered, a pleading edge to his voice.

"Exactly! Saying nothing is worse than telling me I have no place in your life or no knowledge of who you even are. I’m a nice person, Yoongi. You know damn well that I am probably one of the nicest people to exist and you know why that is? I’m a _happy_ person. Happy people are genuinely nice. You are a mean person. You may have things you want, and you may have worked hard for them and I’m not trying to belittle that, but you are a lonely person and as much as that may be something you can survive with, I don’t think you’re happy with that. So for you to stand there and yell at me and act like I’m trying to fuck up your life by being _happy_ and _nice_ to you? Not only does that hurt me, but that hurts _you_."

Yoongi still wants to look away. He wants to coward into himself. He wants to walk down the street and pretend this moment wasn’t happening right now. He wants to pretend that none of this is real. He wants to pretend everything is okay.

"I see through your act, remember?" Jimin continued. "But it’d still be nice if you could just drop it for five minutes and stop treating like what I have to offer is some dirty rag on the floor that you can just easily toss aside. My existence is not an inconvenience, and I’m not going to have someone in my life treat me like it is. I don’t _have_ to have you in my life. I don’t _have_ to have you as a friend. That was a choice I made, and now it’s a choice I’m unmaking."

"No, Jimin— _Please_. I’m sorry."

"Yoongi, you _still_ haven’t even come to find me. By your reactions here I can tell you didn’t mean to bump into me on the street. This wasn’t your plan, this wasn’t what you wanted. It’s been weeks and you still haven’t found me, Yoongi. Did you want me to wait until I was old and crippled for you to walk back in?"

"Of course not. I was… Fuck, you have no idea. Did you know I don’t have your phone number? And did you know that your dance company _doesn’t_ have dance rehearsal hours posted on the site or any way for me to even know which rehearsal I could expect to see you at if it were to even have time times? I’m not really a social media person, and the only way you could have really expected me to find you is if I sat outside on the steps of your rehearsal space and _waited_ to see if you showed up. That wasn’t entirely fair of you. Yeah, it could have been done, but you weren’t making this easy for me. And to answer your question, I’m here because Baekhyun told me where you lived and I stopped by your house."

Jimin parted his lips again, whether it was to start some retaliation or form of comfort, Yoongi didn’t know, but he was quick to continue on speaking before he could even get a single word out.

"And I’m an _honest_ person, so I can tell you that no, I didn’t even bother knocking. I turned around and started walking down the street and that’s when I bumped into you. I wasn’t standing here trying to claim this as me finding you, I just _bumped_ into you, Jimin. By _accident_. I was too afraid to face you because I knew you had every right to be angry at me, and it’s late and I’m tired, too," Yoongi took a step towards Jimin, but the boy stepped back in time with him, keeping the distance between them.

"I’m not standing here begging for your forgiveness and the magic words to make me feel better, I’m standing here not knowing what to say because you’re right, _I didn’t plan this_. I’m sorry if seeing me upset you, but I literally _left_ your house because that’s what I thought would take me _away_ from you, not to run right into you. You’re not being fair to me here, and maybe I deserve that, but I have missed you, Jimin. I _miss_ you."

"Yoongi," Jimin tried, his thoughts stuck in his brain and his words stuck in his throat. "I’m just not interested in having a repeat of the same stuff again. I mean, when you’re fine, you’re really fun to be around and I enjoy spending time with you, but even after I gave your 'bad' a chance, you still turned me away. I still stayed the first few times, and you still couldn’t appreciate someone who would stay."

"But I do appreciate you!" Yoongi urged. "I know I was an ass, and I’m not going to promise that I’ll never get angry and say mean things again because that’s just… that’s just me, Jimin. That’s just my life, but I do promise I won’t like, make you feel unappreciated. No matter what that takes, I won’t… Fuck, I don’t know how to do this stuff, Jimin!"

Yoongi’s desperation was driving towards the edge of madness. Had it been under any other circumstances,  Jimin might have been swayed by it or at least provided some sympathy, but all he could do now is stare at the boy in front of him while the anger continued to pool in his stomach.

"Do I need to take you out for lunch? Should we start going out for coffee and laugh about things together? What about like… your dance stuff! Should I start going to your recitals, rehearsals? Should I start going _with_ you to them? I can close the shop up early and walk you there. Do you want me to _write_ you music to dance to? Because I’ll even do that. I’ll do whatever it takes, just… just, _please_."

"Why are you talking like this? Do you really think this makes things better? I don’t need lunch or songs to feel appreciated, I just needed you to… I just needed you to _not_ say the things you did. I didn’t need you to go out of your way to make me feel some special shit then, and what I defiantly don’t need is you trying to _bribe_ me now. You’re just saying these things to make yourself feel better about what you did, but none of this makes _me_ feel better. The fact that you’re racked with guilt does nothing to ease how you made me feel. You all of a sudden want to be the best of friends because _I_ called you out on _your_ shit. Where is the sincerity in that? Where is your so-called _'honesty'_ in that?"

"I don’t know what I’m _doing_!" Yoongi rebutted "The only friends I have I’ve been friends with for the majority of my life. I’ve been satisfied with just that. I don’t _need_ more than that, but I want more. I want to be friends with you. Is that really all that bad? Isn’t that what people do? Make new friends? _Want_ new friends? Yes, you’re mad and you have every right to be, but here I am offering you exactly what you are saying you wanted from me _and_ more. I’ve not even once tried to tell you that you were wrong or anything, I’m just trying to do what I think would fix this. I’m sorry if what I think is wrong, but I don’t know any better."

Jimin was motionless. He stared at Yoongi for nearly a minute before he finally moved, but only to reach up and grip the strap of the gym bag hanging off his shoulder. He didn’t break eye contact with the boy as he transferred it to the other shoulder.

"Thank you," Jimin muttered as he turned his back to Yoongi and started back down on the path to his house.

There are situations we like to imagine. We let our minds play, freely allowing them to create scenarios in which we are pushed to act in, and we run things by of how the people around us may react. While the actions in these simulations may be quite plausible, they are not a reality.

Unfortunately for this pair, though, this was the reality that had taken up a part of the history of their lives and as Yoongi watched Jimin walk away, he wasn’t sure they would ever come to truly recover.


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to be nice to y'all and give you a nice chapter the very next day. you're welcome.
> 
> ALSO! i kinda wanna write smut for this fic (eventually), but i don't know how y'all would feel about that. so if y'all wanna leave me comments and let me know your opinions, that'd be a+! or like, just leave me comments always in general. i love comments.

"How was practice?" a voice called across the room before Jimin had even been given the chance to closed the door behind him.

"It was fine," Jimin answered loud enough for his waiting friend to hear as he lowered his bag down back onto the floor. He pressed his hand against the wall to hold his balance as he pressed the toe of his foot to the heal of the other, putting pressure on it to help slip the shoe from his foot before repeating the process with the other. "Did you guys already finish the last of the leftovers?"

"Uh, I think there’s still some left in the fridge!"

Leaving his gym bag and shoes by the door, Jimin took a moment to make sure the door was locked before he stepped farther into the house. He made his way down the hall, passing past the kitchen before turning the corner into the living room where his two roommates were gathered.

"When did you guys get home?" Jimin asked the boys, moving across the room to where they sat on the couch. He lowered himself to the ground in front of them, catching a pillow that Hoseok tossed to him. He crossed his legs under him, his eyes a bit downcast as he held the cushion in his lap.

"Woah, wait…" Taehyung pitched in, sitting up straight to reach for the television remote. He reached for the remote to mute the show playing on the screen. He looked back down at Jimin, ignoring his question completely. "What’s the matter? Why are you so sad? What happened at practice?"

The couch dipped next to Taehyung as Hoseok moved forward to the edge of it, both of them focusing their attention on Jimin who sat in front, his slender fingers picking at the fabric bunched and sewn together at the edge of the plush pillow.

"Was it Yoongi? Has he still not reached out to you?" Hoseok asked, leaning down to rest his forearms on the tops of his thighs, his knees digging into his wrists as his weight shifted forward. "I honestly didn’t think it would take him this long to finally find you. You’re a catch. Who wouldn’t want to be your friend?"

"He does want to be my friend," Jimin corrected, his voice growing quiet towards to the end to where it was nearing a mumble. "Supposedly, that is."

"Right," Taehyung started, a noticeable roll to his eyes. "Because he’s done such a great job of showing that lately. Saying cruel things and then not even attempting to fix things for ages is exactly how you get it across that you want to be someone’s friend. How long has it been now? At least a couple weeks, right? Or are we at week three by now?"

"More like a few minutes or so, maybe five minutes max," Jimin shrugged, letting go of the throw pillow to use his arms to prop himself up as he leaned backward.

"Really?" Hoseok asked. "Did he call you or something?"

"Is that why you were out so late? I mean, I know you had practice, but you’re usually home a bit sooner." Taehyung added, looking between both Jimin and Hoseok.

"Well, yes and no. Practice ran a little late, but then on the way home I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me, or we ran into each other. Something like that, it doesn’t really matter. Anyway, so he claims he stopped by the house or something, but that he didn’t even try knocking or anything. He claims he just stopped by and then left, and then happened to bump into me on the street."

"And you believe that?" Taehyung asked, leaning back against the couch, sinking into the cushions behind him. "I mean, I’m not saying if it’s true or false, I just… I just want to know what you think. You’ve been wanting him to contact you and step up, and you ran into him yet you’re sitting here sad. You obviously didn’t grab a cup of coffee together because you aren’t _that_ late, so it’s not like things went overwhelmingly well."

"I don’t know entirely what I believe. I mean, I don’t really think that he would lie about coming over here, and we only bumped into each other a few minute walk down the sidewalk, so it’s not like it’s a ridiculous claim anyway, but yeah, I guess you could say things didn’t go entirely well."

"Well, what happened? Was he rude to you again? I know we don’t really know him, but Chanyeol has known him for ages, and Chanyeol’s partner has known him for even longer. What do they have to say about his behavior towards you?"

"No, he wasn’t rude to me. He was… _eager_? Almost desperate, I would kinda say. I don’t have a lot of experience with his overly-emotional side, but from what I could say from what I _do_ know of him, I’d say he has been pretty upset as of late. This can’t have all been easy for him. And as for Chanyeol and Baekhyun, I don’t really know what all they think about this stuff. I mean, they know I miss him. I’ve told them both so myself, but my friendships with them aren’t based on Baekhyun. Well, okay, I met Baekhyun because of him, but he’s not _why if_ that makes sense. Anyway, I try to keep the Yoongi talk to a minimum. They’re his best friends, after all. I don’t want to make any of them awkward or put them in like, a bad situation."

"I get that," Taehyung nodded. "No one wants some petty friend drama to start among everyone. I mean, there’s drama among Yoongi being so thick-headed, but that’s stuff that’s basically just you two and hopefully, that can be fixed, but if this becomes a thing where people are forced to pick sides, it’d just be stupid. Extremely unnecessary."

"Exactly," Jimin nodded.

"Wait, wait. Why would there need to be drama with Baekhyun and Chanyeol? Didn’t you just say Yoongi has been sad over this? He misses you, you miss him, he was acting _desperate_. Why is there even talk of drama rising here? Why are you sad? Why are things still _wrong_ if everything you’re saying is sounding pretty good to me?" Hoseok pushed himself on his knees, his back arching a bit to release a noticeable popping sound in his back as he stretched out after having being sat in such an uncomfortable position.

"I mean, yeah, but… I was upset. I _am_ upset. In summary, I basically told him to fuck off and that it didn’t make me feel better."

"You _what?!_ " the other boys exclaimed together, Taehyung returning to his upright position.

"He was standing there talking about having lunch and writing me songs! What was I supposed to say?"

"Uh, maybe something along the lines of 'Free food and music written especially for me? Wow, Yoongi! Thank you so much! You’re really showing how far you’re willing to go to prove my worth to you. Thank you so much for these offers, I _most definitely_ will take you up on them!' I mean, I’m just shooting some ideas out here, but probably something on those lines!" Taehyung cried out.

"Yeah," Hoseok agreed. "I mean, you could still be mad at him and hurt and all, but most people would _jump_ at the notion of someone writing music and _poetry_ basically for them. What the fuck is going through your mind, Jimin? Help us understand here."

Jimin looked helplessly between them, no words coming to mind to explain himself, so instead, Hoseok turned to Taehyung and began speaking.

"Tell me," he began. "If some person you’ve been obsessed with for the better part of a year stood there in the middle of the night vowing to give you everything you want, including _food_ and _songs_ that they’ve written _just_ for you, would you tell them to fuck off, or would you tell them to fuck _you_?"

"Don’t be ridiculous, of course, I’d tell them to fuck me. There’s not even any thought I’d need to put to that. I mean, he’s even his own _business_ owner. He could have _money_! And even if he doesn’t, I’ve seen that shop a couple times when we walk by it. If he takes care of that shop by _himself_ , that shows that he takes care of what’s his. We’re talking potential sugar daddy material here, of course. Wait," Taehyung turned his attention back to Jimin. "Did you ever mention is he was single or not? I can’t remember."

"When did this go from me being spat on by someone I cared about to Taehyung planning his seduction of the same said person? This is about me, remember?" Jimin frowned, sitting back up and resting his hands back on top of the pillow. "We’re supposed to be focusing on _my_ issues here, not Taehyung’s twisted desire for a _sugar daddy_."

"Uh, about the same time you decided to tell _dream boy_ to fuck off instead of proclaiming your love for him," Taehyung replied, an exaggerated _'duh'_ sound in his tone of voice. "If you’re gonna toss him aside, that means he’s up for grabs."

"First of all, I’m not tossing him aside. I’m merely just _upset_ and I feel I have the right to express that to whatever extents I deem necessary. Second of all, he is by no means a _'dream boy'_ or anything of those sorts, and I am most certainly _not_ in love with him. I care about him, yes, and maybe there are times where I think there might be a _little_ bit of something there, but it’s nothing more than that and I need all of us to be very clear here, okay? I need to make sure we’re all on the same page with this."

"Why is it so important to you that we don’t believe that you’re in love with Yoongi?" Hoseok inserted. "You just said yourself that there are times where even you question it, so how come it’s so importantly dire that we never even let it cross our minds?"

"Because I’m _not_ in love with him, and if he’s going to be a dick and hurt me I don’t want everyone going around saying that him saying mean things to me is love. That’s not what I want from a romance or even life for that matter. It’s alright if we sit here and talk about how I miss him as a friend, but I’m not going to fall for someone like that."

"I’m sorry if we offended you," Taehyung said. "And you can tell me I’m wrong here, but I think somewhere we can all be on the same page is when it comes to whether or not Yoongi is _'someone like that'._ Yes, what he did was wrong, but how many people are completely innocent? You yourself have blown up on people before, even us. We’ve witnessed it. It was a bit warranted to an extent, but you even did that today. He was telling you everything you’ve been saying you wanted to hear, but yet you still turned him away, Jimin."

"He may be different from you and even the majority of the people you know, but he’s not a new kind of human. There are many people just like him, and there are many people that _aren’t_ like him that blow up exactly like he did when he was upset. We’re not saying that all of this suddenly makes it excusable, but he’s not suddenly an abusive ass just because he got upset a few times. For all you know he could very much have an actual excuse that does explain his actions, but right now we can’t know that because when he did come to fix things the best he could, you turned him away," Hoseok finished, clarifying a bit of what Taehyung had been trying to say.

"I suppose you’re right," Jimin sighed, his fingers digging into the pillow as he sat there in silence, thinking about what the two were trying to get across to him. "That was probably wrong of me to say, him being that type of person, I mean. And maybe it was a bit wrong of me to turn him down so easily, but I just… I was hurt when he said those things, and I was hurt that he waited so long to come find me."

"Some people just need more time, you know?" Hoseok continued on. "He still tried to show it and if we’re being honest here, I truly believe he’s going to continue to try. And I don’t mean to make you feel guilty or push any blame on you, but just like his words made you feel unwanted, if you _really_ want him in your life, then I highly suggest you at least tell him that instead of telling him to find you, and then shoving him off when he finally does."

"But you know why I did it—"

"We know why," Taehyung interrupted. "Trust me, we _do_ know! And we’re by no means saying you don’t have a right to be upset. I promise you, we’re on your side here, but it’s also because we’re on your side and that we love you very much that we have to remind you that your actions have consequences, too, and you don’t want your anger to ruin your friendship or chances with him just like he obviously doesn’t want his anger to ruin those same things with you. You’re thinking with emotions here, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s what we’re here for… to remind you that there’s more than just your emotions or even just emotions in general. There are logic and time, and somewhere I’m sure there are also explanations. You just need to give it all a chance, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. You’re both right, but like, I’m not in love with him. I just wanna make sure that this is clear still. I’m… _fond_ of him, and I’d very much welcome his friendship, but we aren’t in love, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hoseok groaned, waving his hand in the air. "We get it, you’re not attracted to invitations of basically lunch dates and the proclamations of writing songs for you. I mean, if anyone’s the odd-ball out here, I’d say you pretty much fit the bill. Forget everything else, who rejects _that_?"

"It wasn’t even being offered in a romantic manner, you dumbass," Jimin voiced, pushing his point onto the both of them. "He was doing it in like… a friend way. I told you, he was being desperate."

"All due respect, you may know Yoongi better than us, but do you know him better than himself? For all you know, it _could_ have been in a romantic—"

"Taehyung!" Jimin gaped, his eyes wide as he moved to stand up on his knees, the pillow still gripped in his hold. " _Not. In. Love._ "

"So… does that mean he’s free for me?" Taehyung teased, his joking manner quickly met with Jimin trying to shove the pillow in his face in a feigned attempt to suffocate him.

 

* * *

 

"So, what exactly is this great plan of yours again?" Chanyeol asked as he sat down with his basket of food.

"What plan?" Jimin asked, reaching forward to steal a from Chanyeol. Chanyeol quickly snapped his hand out to lay a quick smack on top of Jimin’s hand before he could get a hold on his food before pointing to Jimin’s own food across the table.

"Eat your own food, you brat," he narrowed his eyes as he pulled his food closer to him and away from Jimin. "Do I look like a man that wants to share my food with you?"

"No," Baekhyun chipped in, sliding into the chair next to Chanyeol’s. He reached in front of his husband and pulled a fry from the basked Chanyeol was guarding so close to him. He took a bite off the end of the fry, grinning wide as he chewed the small piece. "But you do look like a man that is more than willing to share your food with _me_."

"Absolutely _not_ ," Chanyeol glared, his eyes growing a hint of anger as he met his husband’s adoring gaze. "I may offer _many_ things up for you to taste and eat, but my _food_ that is meant for _my stomach_ is not one of those things. If you’d like to continue this marriage and avoid being served with divorce papers, I’d advise you never to touch my food again. Are we clear?"

"Are you gonna divorce me?" Baekhyun snorted, not buying into his obviously fake threat as he took another bite from the fry.

"No," Chanyeol sighed, looking sadly at the remainder of the fry. "But I am currently considering having you murdered by someone, if not by my own bare hands, as we speak."

"Yeah?" Baekhyun’s eyes lit up. "Then tell me, how is it you would have me die?"

"Hmm," Chanyeol paused, letting go of the basket to reach for Baekhyun, sliding his hand upwards of his husband’s chest, his fingers reaching up to press against the skin of his neck. "I would probably have you strangled. You know I love seeing your neck marked up. At least in your death, I’d still receive some… joy."

Swallowing down the last bit of the stolen fry, Baekhyun reached up to push Chanyeol’s hand off his throat. His eyes grew wide as he stared incredulously at Chanyeol, feigned disgust filling his face.

"Are you saying all this time I’ve been married to a necrophiliac? In that case, get those divorce papers ready. I can deal with the withholding of food and sex, but now you’re telling me you would welcome the sexual company of a corpse?"

" _Guys_ ," Jimin spoke up. "Can you like, not? I am here to eat food, not listen to you two discussing sex between corpses."

"Right," Chanyeol turned back to Jimin, picking up the sandwich from the basket. "You were about to tell us what your plan is."

" _What_ plan?" Jimin insisted, confusion filling his expression and voice. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"I’m talking about your plan with how you’re going to fix things with Yoongi. Do we get to play a part in it? Or is this something you’re doing solo? I mean, I’d understand if you’d want to do this on your own, but I really do love meddling. Please, let me at least have a part in it. You don’t need to include Baekhyun in it, he’s pretty much useless anyway, but I can do whatever you need. I can be helpful, I promise."

"There’s not really a plan," Jimin answered, shrugging his shoulders as he turned his attention to his own food.

"Of course there is. You both wanna be friends. You both want each other in one another’s lives. He told me you two talked and he offered to be friends, so now it’s your turn to meet him halfway. How could you not have a plan? You _need_ to have a plan here."

"It’s not that I don’t want to fix things. I will in my own time, but it’s not going to be something I plan down to the letter and force, you know? I mean, not that reuniting with him would be something that I would feel forced upon, but I’d rather just let things happen when they’re going to happen, and how they’re going to happen. We met by chance in the first place, he ran into me by chance last week, and now… You know, it only seems fitting that things continue to happen by chance. In a way, it’s our comfort zone."

"So," Baekhyun began, leaning over the table, his body angled to face towards Jimin. "Are you really saying that you’re just going to wait around until you maybe cross each other on the street sometime? Because let me tell you, he basically has no life. He goes to his apartment, his shop, the grocery store, the coffee shop, and our place. That’s basically it. So unless you’re going to start committing your daily routines to his walking paths, you could find yourself waiting quite a while, you know? Is everyone supposed to wait around until then? This could take weeks, months, years."

"Well, I was kinda planning on just waiting until I got like, a _feeling_ that it was time, but also I feel the need to say that my friendship with Yoongi isn’t really something that other people should be waiting around on. Of course, I’ll talk to you and other people about it, but the friendship is a friendship between him and me. That’s what’s important here."

"Of course," Chanyeol agreed. "Forgive us for being a bit eager, we’ve just never really had the chance to see Yoongi with other people like we see him with you. I mean, he’s had other friends and believe it or not, he’s even had some relationships here and there, but there’s something different here. No matter the nature of the relationship between you two, you make him happy and I’d like to believe that he makes you happy, too."

"He does make me happy," Jimin assured. "I very much enjoy his company and I’m not going to avoid it for much longer. I promise I have every intention of fixing all of this soon. And I know he’s your friend so I apologize for any pain I’ve caused him recently. I am being completely honest when I say that I never wanted to hurt him in any way."

"Don’t worry," Baekhyun chuckled. "We know better than most how much of an asshole he can be. We just don’t think those moments should define your opinions of him forever."

"I won’t let them," Jimin nodded, reaching for his drink. "I’m pretty much over it all now, I just have to find the right time to go to him and tell him I forgive him, and maybe even seek out his forgiveness for having turned him away so easily."

"Good," Chanyeol set his sandwich down, a small clap of his hands following suit. "Now, onto a new topic. I know we haven’t known each other too long, but we’re looking for some people to vouch for us to the adoption agencies. It’s starting to look like things are starting to pick up. We already have some people, but we just want to make our case stronger, you know?"

" _Some_ of us are far too obsessed with all the paperwork and procedures of the adoption process," Baekhyun added on, a touch of laughter in his voice displaying his light amusement with the request.

"Well excuse me if I want to make sure that we get a kid or two. I just want to be sure," Chanyeol frowned, moving his hands to rest on top of the table.

"I know that," Baekhyun reached up to place his hand on top of Chanyeol’s. His fingers slipped between Chanyeol’s, laying a comforting grip on the boy’s hand. "But trust me, we’re going to have children. We’re great people, we have a wonderful home, money to support any children, and we’ve made it clear that we’d love any child they decide to let us raise. Things will work out, you can relax a little bit."

The right corner of Chanyeol’s lips tugged up in a soft smile, the gesture relaying the message that he heard Baekhyun and that he understood him, but still he turned back to Jimin with a pair of pleading eyes and a hopeful voice.

"Will you still do it? Please?" he asked.

"Of course I will," Jimin grinned. "I’m honored that you would even ask that of me."

"Well, of course, we’d want you to put your input. You and Yoongi are destined to be anyway, and he’s basically going to be our child’s uncle. By default, you’re going to be an uncle, too. We want the agency to like you just as much as they’d like us. Well, _almost_ as much as they like us. We want them to give _us_ the kid, not you, but they need to know and like the people that are going to be in the child’s life."

"I just wanna know how many times I’m going to have to say that I’m _not_ in love with Yoongi before people start actually listening to me," Jimin groaned. "Honestly, you are all so ridiculous."

"First of all, no one is saying that you are in love with him… _yet_ , at least. Secondly, the both of _you_ are ridiculous. You’re both single, you are both attractive, and you’re both clearly into each other," Baekhyun snorted.

" _Both_ of us? You mean he actually goes around talking about being with me and wanting me? _No_ , even if that’s actually how he felt I think we all know he’s not entirely the type. He seems more private with anything. I mean, I didn’t even know he knew what dating and love were, but you guys just mentioned earlier that he’s been in not only a relationship before, but _relationships_? That’s plural. I’ve known him for almost a year and I didn’t even think of the possibility that he knew that kind of stuff even existed, yet apparently, he’s been with multiple people. So either you’re exaggerating his interest, or you’re harassing him, too. Oh my, are you _harassing_ him over being with me, too?"

Baekhyun pulled his hand from Chanyeol’s, favoring reaching to pick up his sandwich instead as the married couple shared a look among one another. Jimin stared between them, a mix of both confusion and annoyance swirling among his eyes as he watched their silent interaction.

"Well?" Jimin pushed. "Which is it? Is he deeply in love with me or are you messing around with the poor boy?"

"I mean," Baekhyun started to explain. "I would like to say both, but mostly he reacts the same way you do about all of this. I mean, the love between you two is somewhat a common joke across the board of everyone that knows of you and him and we do push it a bit, but I think there’s at least a _little_ bit of something between you two. Whether you admit it or not, and whether he admits it or not. No one’s saying you _have_ to get together or anything, but we’re all convinced you will get together either way."

"Yeah," Chanyeol agreed. "Think of it like, us thinking towards the future. We’re all living in the future where you’re already together, and you two are living in the past world where it doesn’t exist yet. We’re not pushing you, we’re just ahead of you and waiting for you to catch up."

"I had my suspicions that you were stupid before, but now I’m convinced that you two aren’t only dumb, but you’re also _crazy_ ," Jimin insisted. "You’ve completely lost your minds."

"Oh, _please_. Look, if it honestly makes you uncomfortable then I’ll stop and make sure everyone else stops doing it, but from how red your face is, I’d be surprised if you have honestly been successful in convincing _yourself_ on the fact you feel nothing for him romantically."

"My face isn’t red," Jimin argued, his hands reaching up to press his fingers against his face. The skin of his face was warm to the touch, the temperature an obvious contrast under the pads of his fingers and the cooling touch it provided against his heated cheeks. Without looking in a mirror, it was obvious with the warmth of his face paired with the slight, dulling pain that he was starting to notice that he was in fact blushing. " _Your_ face is red."

"So you _do_ like him?" Baekhyun pushed, his voice growing in pitch as he leaned back over the table, his chin propping up on the heels of his hands as his elbows dug into the wood of the table. "Is this your admission of feelings?"

"The only thing I’m testifying to is that you are a moron," Jimin started, glaring at Baekhyun before turning his eyes back to Chanyeol. "And _you_ are an even bigger moron. I’ve changed your names. You’re now Dumb and Dumber."

"And you’re into Yoongi. We get it," Chanyeol shrugged, picking up a fry from his basket.

"If I deny it again it’ll just make you both insist even more, won’t it?" Jimin exhaled, his tone dull and exasperated as he wrapped his lips around the straw of his drink to take a sip of his water.

"Yes," they both replied, their timing perfectly in unison.

"Right, then I guess it’s all pointless. Back to the adoption, though, have you met any kids yet? Do you even get to pick your child?"

"Well," Chanyeol began. "We do have some say in it, kinda. Obviously, they’re not going to pair us with a child we don’t connect with or a child that doesn’t connect with us, but we’re not really picky. We could never bring ourselves to look at a child and say they aren’t good enough for us. We’re kinda just, waiting for life to take things by the hand and let things run by chance."

"Look at that, Jimin," Baekhyun joined in. "Looks like everyone waiting at this table is on the same page of fate and letting things just happen naturally. We’re going about our child with fate, and you’re waiting to go to Yoongi for when fate tells you to."

"I may not be able to divorce you," Jimin groaned. "But I may join in on this plan of _killing_ you. Maybe not in the sexual nature that Chanyeol seems to insist upon, but as long as it ends in your death I’ll be pleased."

"Jimin?" Baekhyun inquired.

"Yes?"

"Go to Yoongi. You’re getting as cranky and irritated as he is."


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long and sorry that thIS CHAPTER IS SO SHITTY.... i had most of it done several days ago, but then i got in a car accident and i've been in a lot of pain n im just now starting to feel better n shIT so... yeah!

The first thing that fully registered in Jimin’s mind was the sound of the bell going off as soon as he pushed open the door to the record shop he had recently grown so far apart from. The smell was the same, and the first step inside was met with the same creak of the floor that always insisted on making an appearance as the wood bent under the weight of his body moving into the store. To Jimin, that had always been more of a welcome than the door’s bell striking against the glass.

The second thing he noticed was how the wall behind the register counter was scattered with many color samples painted in thick patches as if someone had been testing to see which color would look better. They were each a variation of some form of gray, but they all varied on the color scales, shifting from a near white to the approaching of a solid black that threatened to swallow the world around it whole. There was something comforting about the display. Even though it wasn’t a mess and it was obviously not intentional, it made a declaration that things were still moving and building up to better things. 

The third thing Jimin noticed was the lack of Yoongi, and the fourth: _an open studio door_.

It had been almost a week since they ran into each other outside his house. Jimin’s anger had nearly dissolved completely by this point and in its place now came the desire to see Yoongi again. Though Jimin had only been in the back room once before, it was clear he had never received a formal invitation to come and go as he pleased. He had spent nearly every moment in the shop away from the room, only entering the time the rain had become too much and Yoongi had dragged him into the room. Jimin moved his right hand to press his fingers inside the elbow of his left arm, remembering back to the night Yoongi’s fingers had wrapped around the limb and pulled him in. Yoongi had taken care of him that day.

Jimin was not in the mood for waiting much longer. His time apart from the boy had gone on far too long, both from Yoongi’s evasion and Jimin’s fury. He was ready to end it. Without more than a second of thought his feet start moving. They made the short trip across the store, being careful to move the racks and centerpieces as he made it through the path. He knew Yoongi was just an empty doorway away and he wasn’t stopping.

When he finally made it, however, he was met with the image of Yoongi’s focus narrowed in on a computer screen. The lights on his mixing tables were all on, the levels of the dials all pushed to different levels to accompany the scattered paper cluttering all available space. There was a half eaten sandwich set on a napkin to his left and an apple clutched tightly in his left hand as he worked with the right to move around the cursor on the laptop’s display, shifting around pieces that Jimin could only assume were music samples that he was compiling together.

The handwriting on the papers was messy, and some of them were stained with some sort of liquid, causing some parts of them to be crinkled up and torn. Jimin had remembered the desk being disorderly before, but that had been with useless clutter. Jimin could now see the trash bin in the corner was filled past the rim with a variety of magazines and opened letters that had obviously been expelled from the table to make room for his work.

"You’re writing music," Jimin declared, his voice disturbing the sound of clicking and keys clattering. Yoongi looked up immediately, his eyes unbelieving for a few moments, giving reality a moment to settle in. His eyes grew happy, wondering, but Jimin was still met with an empty tone that he didn’t know what to make of.

" _You’re here_."

"I am," Jimin confirmed, stepping deeper into the room. He took the slight turn of Yoongi’s body towards him as an approval, not waiting for the permission of spoken words to allow him in. He walked over to the desk, his eyes moving down to read over the papers. They were definitely lyrics. Yoongi _was_ writing music.

Before Jimin had a chance to study the papers even further, they were swept together into one pile, each page folding and making crinkling sounds as Yoongi roughly forcing them together in a horrid attempt organization. They were not for anyone’s eyes, and that was being made perfectly clear to Jimin.

"How long have you been writing music again?"

Yoongi turned his eyes down to the papers, looking at them with Jimin as he sat up straight in his chair. He set the apple down on the overlapping papers and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don’t know. Maybe around nine months or something. I guess around the time I realized I found a person in my life that I cared about, and it reminded me that there are other things I care about in life, too, and it’s not just about making my bill payments and shit."

"Nine months? Who have you cared about for nine months? Is there someone else in your life that I don’t know about?"

"No," Yoongi shook his head. "I’ve known you for a year, but it took me a few months to realize that you were someone I wanted to call my friend."

The room was silent, deadly.

"And I guess it took me a lot longer to even act like you actually are my friend," Yoongi added on. "I’m sorry about that. I get cranky. And like, don’t tell anyone I’m writing or anything… Especially Baekhyun because he’ll never let me live it down and—"

"Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me," Jimin assured, his hand dropping from his elbow so that his fingertips could rest against the top of the paper, marking his place so that his eyes could have an easier time focusing on the lines he was reading. "This is some really heavy stuff, you know. Lots of passion and like, _fire_. It’s fitting, I guess. You’ve always reminded me of fire."

"Why’s that?"

"You provide warmth and comfort. It can be very healing, but it can also be very dangerous. You could save someone someday, but you could just as easily land them dead."

"You think too highly of me, you know? I’m not that deep," Yoongi chuckled, the rumble in his chest providing everything Jimin needed to relax the muscles in his body. Everything was going to be okay.

"Or maybe you just don’t think highly enough of yourself. Did you ever consider that? Everyone around you is so heavily affected by your passion. You either make them the happiest people in the world, or you can send them into turmoil. Do you really think someone plain and boring can have such dramatic effects on the people allowed in their lives?"

Yoongi let the words sit in the air, reaching forward to pull the paper out from beneath Jimin’s fingers. His eyes scanned over the page, reading the words fresh in Jimin’s mind.

"I’m being serious," Jimin pushed. "And I think you know it, too. Is that why you don’t let a lot of people in?"

"How about we talk about you instead," Yoongi tried, pushing the conversation in another direction. "So, tell me about this dashing boy in your life that has recently sent you into _turmoil_ as you put it."

"Don’t say I never gave you a warning that I would smack you, alright? Because one of these days my handprint will be permanently embedded into your cheeks."

"Which set of cheeks?"

" _Hyung,_ " Jimin warned, his voice growing higher and his face growing redder. "That is so inappropriate!"

"What’s your point?"

"You opened to me just now, did you realize that? I asked about your music and you trusted me with it, and then you told me more detail about when and why you started writing again and some could argue that you exposed some insecurities about yourself with how you deny your effect on others."

"I told you I wanted to be your friend. I’m actually going to start trying now. I take my promises very seriously and I swear to you I will put forth my best efforts. I take care of the people I make a part of my life."

There was something about his declaration that twisted something inside of Jimin. It wasn’t a declaration of romance, yet it wasn’t just some plain statement of friendship. Yoongi had finally accepted him as a person of value, a person worthy of late night conversations and mid-afternoon attempts of putting together a decent breakfast. This wasn’t a friendship of acquaintanceships and occasional small talk. This meant something… to the both of them. This wasn’t just Yoongi saying he takes care of the people he loves, it was Yoongi saying he’d take care of _Jimin_. Jimin was one of his people.

 

* * *

 

"What in the world do you think you’re _doing?_ " Yoongi wailed, rushing from his register and into the studio where Jimin was busying himself with staggering blankets and pillows into some form a fort. The couch was completely covered, pushed completely against the wall and a large blanket tied to hooks on the wall to make sure that there was no space in between the wall and the makeshift fort. The three chairs in the room had been moved as well, stretching out the area capable of being covered by a couple sheets, and in a small opening, Yoongi could see that a thick blanket was folded up on the floor with a pillow at the head. It lightly resembled a bed. Yoongi was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

"I’m, uh… I’m making a fort, you know? It’s like, a thing people build sometimes. You use blankets and furniture and shit to make like, a tent kind of a thing and then you sit and sometimes sleep inside. Friends can be known to do it to like, _bond_ and have a little downtime together. I mean, I know it’s a bit too childish for your tastes and all, but you’ve been working so hard lately so I thought maybe a little fun could be good for you. It could relax you and all, you know? Less stress leads to happier days and happier days lead to a happier life. You _do_ want to be happy, don’t you?" Jimin explained, his voice a bit whiny as he pleaded his case, his hands stopping mid-way at the knot he was currently tying to the last leg of a chair.

"Oh, _save it_. I know what a fort is and for your the record and all future reference, I know what _fun_ is, too," Yoongi dragged, his eyes rolling as he made his way over to where Jimin was.

"When I asked what you’re _doing_ ," Yoongi continued, reaching towards Jimin’s hands. "I simply meant that you’re tying this knot completely wrong. You’re using far too much of the sheet. The knot will be too loose and could easily come undone, and since you’re focusing too much of the fabric, all it would take is one wrong move to pull the whole chair down."

"Wha… _What_?" Jimin turned his head towards him, his plump lips parted in an obvious loss for words as he struggled to wrap his mind around Yoongi’s sudden interest in forts and the heat of the boy’s hands covering his own. Jimin looked down between them, his eyes getting caught at the veins popping in Yoongi’s hands. He had never realized how nice Yoongi’s hands were before. They were noticeably bigger than his own, and where Jimin’s hands were soft in nature, Yoongi’s hands were angry and threatening, a vast contradiction to how gentle his touch was.

"Just watch," Yoongi grunted, his lengthy fingers curling around Jimin’s hands to unwrap them from the sheet’s ends. Yoongi swiftly replaced his grip with his own, making quick work of loosening up some of the fabric bunched up so that there was less material in his hold. Jimin watched his hands move. Yoongi’s hands were so nice and captivating that he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, making it more than easy to follow the boy’s command to watch.

Jimin stayed silent as Yoongi’s hands moved, moving the corner between the bars of the chair and securing it in a tight knot. Jimin had to admit that he was a lot more focused on Yoongi’s hands than what those hands were actually doing. In fact, his attention was so attuned to the sleek movements that he didn’t even notice that Yoongi was narrating the whole thing until he finished the knot.

"Now do you understand how to do it _properly_?" Yoongi tested, his fingers curling around the back of the chair as he looked at Jimin.

"Uh, yeah, I get it now," Jimin nodded, swallowing the lump that had been created in his throat. "You just gotta… tie it, right?"

"Okay, so you _weren’t_ actually listening," Yoongi sighed, stepping back. "Look, I don’t close for like, another hour, so, like, you’re gonna have to find some sort of entertainment until then because if you’re planning to take my night away from work, I have to finish my books before then."

"Deal!" Jimin chirped, snapping out of his daze. "I’ll go get us some snacks for tonight and a movie or something. Don’t work too hard, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Yoongi waved. "All play, no work. I understand the rules."

"Good, I’m glad we’re finally getting on the same page."

("Jimin, I swear if you don’t get your fucking ass off of me I will _kill_ you. You’ll be kicked out and you’ll never be allowed back in again. I’ll banish you."

"Wait, so are you killing me or banning me from your store? I mean, I get that these are both _very_ serious threats and all, but I think we should bang out the terms here so we’re both very clear on what’s happening here."

"I’m so tired of you. I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to be friends. I hate you."

"Yes, I get that, but I seriously need to know which it is. Death or a life of banishment? This is probably the most critical thing we could possibly be addressing in this moment. Honestly, if we were in a television show there’d be thousands of people waiting for you to clarify this for us all."

"Get out of here. You’re giving me a headache."

"Is this what you call being _nice_ and _caring_? I thought you were supposed to be showing me you want me in your life."

"Aren’t you listening? I don’t like you anymore. You’re fired from being my friend."

"Wait, I was supposed to be getting _paid_ for this gig? Fuck, how much money have I racked up? I’d like to cash _that_ check in now."

"You’re dead to me."

(When the morning light finally started to shine in through the windows of the shop, the natural clock inside Jimin’s body finally stirred him out of his slumber. The first thing that registered was the fact Yoongi was missing from the couch he had fallen asleep on underneath the fort. The light from Yoongi’s laptop flashing the title screen of a movie illuminated the haunting, empty spot. The second thing that registered was the arm that was wrapped tightly around his stomach and the warmth of Yoongi’s body pressed tightly behind him.))

 

* * *

 

"Where are we going?" Jimin asked, following closely behind Yoongi as he tried to keep up with his quick pace. "Come on, I don’t like surprises."

"I told you I’d get you lunch, remember?" Yoongi turned his face sideways to Jimin so that he could hear him clearer.

"Oh, that? Yoongi, you know I’m not actually holding you to any of that stuff you said that night, right? I mean, by all means, you’re free to buy me food at any time, but I just want you to know you don’t like, _have_ to."

"I know I don’t have to do anything. I never do anything I don’t want to," Yoongi stopped in his tracks, turning the rest of his body so he was facing the boy. His head turned at an angle, tilting towards him as he stepped towards him. His hand reached out, his palm pressing flat against the brick wall behind him. "If you ever don’t want to do something with me, that’s fine. If you ever decide you’re better off without me, that’s fine, too, but I _want_ to be your friend and I want to go to lunch with you. Now, is that alright with you?"

"Yes," Jimin muttered, his voice soft and his eyes wide as his eyes met Yoongi’s.

"Good," Yoongi declared, his free hand traveling up to break the space between them, the tips of his fingers just hardly trailing over the expanse of Jimin’s cheek, but before Jimin could allow himself to indulge in the careful touch, a quick series of playful taps smacked against his cheek, and Yoongi’s body was pulling away. "Then let’s go. I’d like to get there before the lunch rush because I may have agreed to a meal with you, but I am _never_ down for waiting in a line for food. That is something you can never get me to sign up for."

Jimin stared blankly at him, watching his fading figure before catching up to time. His feet rushed to catch up to him, his eyes narrowing in on the back of Yoongi’s neck as they walked.

"You know, you’re really dramatic. And like, you’re either completely dull, pathetic or all in my face. Like, your moods are always to some extreme."

"Is that an official complaint you’re filing?" Yoongi laughed, slowing his pace down so that Jimin could walk along his side. "Because we aren’t in my official place of business currently. Unfortunately, I don’t bring the complain forms around town with me, I keep them underneath the counter. If we’re doing this now, we’ll have to turn back immediately if you have any hope of getting that in by noon."

"You’re insatiable, you know that?"

"Yes," Yoongi scoffed, hardly stopping a beat before hooking his arm with Jimin’s, locking their arms together in a tight hold that only dragged Jimin deeper into the sense of security that Yoongi seemed all but determined to smother him in lately.

If he was being perfectly honest, however, he was growing quite attached to the comfort Yoongi now provided.

 

* * *

 

"I just don’t know if I should do this," Jimin argued, his feet taking a sharp turn to walk back in the opposite direction, his pacing growing far too tedious for Hoseok’s tastes. "Like, maybe this was all a big mistake and we should just call in like, the understudy and bail on the rest of the night so like, we can go drinking or something. Yeah, _drinking_. That sounds like a really good idea! Certainly better than—"

"Park Jimin," Hoseok warned. "We can go drinking _after_ the performance tonight. Why are you even acting like this? I mean, everyone can be expected to have a _little_ bit of nerves before big performances, but you’re usually pretty good about keeping this shit under control. Why are you so… _off_ tonight?"

"I’m off?" Jimin panicked, his feet stopping in their tracks as he looked back at Hoseok, his eyes wild and desperate for guidance. "Is it that obvious? Oh, fuck! What if I fall straight on my face out there? If I’m off that means my timing is off, and if my _timing_ is off that means my _dancing_ is off! I’m gonna embarrass myself and everyone else before the music even starts and my whole entire life and career will be over. I definitely think we should skip to the drinking. It’s clearly the best decision for everyone."

"Is Yoongi here? Is that it?"

"No! I mean, _yes_ , he’s here, but that wouldn’t cause any nerves. Don’t be silly, I’ve known him for basically a year. Probably even longer by this point. Why would I be nervous in front of him?"

"I mean, you’ve known him for a while, yeah, but he’s never seen you actually _dance_ has he? Like, at a real recital for a real performance? You know that’s different. Maybe he’s one of those people that get really emotional over stuff like that. Jimin!"

"What?" Jimin stepped up to him, his eyes wide.

"What if he _cries_?"

Jimin’s hand shot up, darting towards Hoseok’s face. Jimin was quick, but Hoseok was quicker and was easily able to lean his body back out of the hand’s moving path, leaving the air between them victim to Jimin’s strike.

"Woah!" Hoseok cried out as he grabbed onto Jimin’s shirt to pull his body forward again, using the hold to regain his balance. "What do you think you’re doing? I am one of your _best_ friends, roommate, _and_ elder. You can’t just go around _hitting_ me! Honestly, your manners are terrible."

"Everything about you is terrible, so we’re pretty much even," Jimin retorted, bending his body forward in a stretch, his fingers working to refold the cuffs at the ends of his pants, making sure they were each folded over neatly. He stood back up, his hands running down the front of his baggy shirt, the dark blue contrasting nicely over his even skin.

"Okay, all jokes aside," Hoseok caved, swiftly changing the subject in time with the song change that altered the both of them that Jimin only had one more performance ahead of him before it was time to go on. "You look great. Like, your clothes suit you, your dance moves have and always will look great. You’re going to go out there, do everything perfectly, then we’re going to go all have dinner together, and you might even end up laid by morning."

"Funny," Jimin deadpanned. "You’re really fucking funny."

"Yeah, I know. That’s kind of a requirement of being the funny friend. Now, get your ass ready to go out there. It’s almost time."

A hug of encouragement was exchanged, Hoseok offering Jimin all the time he could need from the embrace before he finally let the younger boy go. A pat on the back from Hoseok was met with a face full of gratitude from Jimin, and suddenly Jimin was gone. He made his way over to the left wing, being careful to stay out of the way of spaces that could be seen from the audience, breathing in a shaky breath as he watched the dancers on stage intently, focusing in on the power in their moves and trying so desperately to bring himself to that state within the little time he knew he had left.

Jimin eventually watched the group strike their final pose, listening to the roar of an applause before the lights dimmed down. With nerves bleeding out from each step, Jimin made his way onto the stage through the dark, the group being careful not to hit him, but even the changes between dances had been rehearsed. It was all a dance.

Jimin took his place in the center of the stage, forcing himself into a state of relaxation as he zoned out everything else. He turned his back to everyone, sucking in a deep breath as he pushed his feet up into a pointe, balancing on the tips of his shoes and the beginnings of "Untitled", a song Jimin now knew was actually just called "Untitled", began playing, and in the crowd one pair of eyes belonging to Min Yoongi turned up from his lap to the stage just as the lights were raised again.

 

* * *

 

"Jimin, pass the ketchup!" Baekhyun called out from across the table. Jimin’s hand reached out to grab the bottle for him, but Yoongi was faster and easily snatched it from his path. Angry eyes shot down the table at Yoongi who was now popping the lid open and pouring a puddle of ketchup onto his own plate.

"Yoongi, what the fuck?" Baekhyun whined. "You knew I wanted that, I literally just asked for it."

"Are you seriously whining?" Chanyeol tilted his head towards Baekhyun. "Come on, I didn’t marry a wimp. Wait your turn, it was already down at that end of the table. It’s not the end of the world if Yoongi, or anyone else, uses it before you."

Baekhyun frowned at his husband, obviously wanting to fight the statement, but clearly unable to do so without the manners of a child. Instead, Baekhyun quickly straightened up his face, his lips curling up in a smile before he leaned over to press a careful kiss to Chanyeol’s cheek.

"Yes, my love," Baekhyun replied, a sloppy grin on his face as Chanyeol rolled his eyes.

" _Someone’s_ kissing ass tonight," Yoongi snorted as he extended his arm out, ketchup bottle in grip as he reached across Jimin to hand it out to the married couple.

"Yeah, hopefully, _Chanyeol_ if I play my cards right," Baekhyun retorted, snatching the bottle from Yoongi’s hand.

"I’m most definitely not getting anywhere near your ass tonight, thank you," Chanyeol groaned, turning his attention back to food on his plate as he turned his body back towards Jimin and Yoongi, leaving his back facing his husband.

"Is this all that’s coming?" Yoongi asked, looking at the empty chairs both in front of them and to Jimin’s left.

"No, Hoseok and Taehyung had to go across town to pick up a friend to bring here, and then I have a couple more friends that are coming down as well. They’re from the same company, but they’re more of like, the technical staff, I guess you could say. I mean, they just don’t really do any performances, but they help everywhere else they can. They’re always a little late because they like to stay after to make sure everything is settled and stuff."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense. How come you don’t all have one big dinner? Like, the team and stuff."

"We do, actually. And we usually go, but we go every year and we all wanted something a little more private and stuff this time around anyway. We’ve been to countless after party dinners, and there will be even more in the future. Bowing out of one won’t kill anyone."

"Well at least now we get to all meet your other friends," Baekhyun interrupted. "I know Chanyeol’s met most of them, being involved in the company and all, but I still haven’t."

"That’s because you’re embarrassing and I can’t take you anywhere," Chanyeol explained, a teasing gleam to his eye.

"Well, then why haven’t I met them?" Yoongi countered. "I haven’t even met his roommates. I’ve heard plenty, but I don’t know them personally."

"Uh, let’s see," Baekhyun cut in. "You’re a hermit and hardly ever leave your store. Like, when’s the last time you even went to your house? I’m pretty sure the only bill you pay is your water bill for occasional showers because we all know you don’t even turn the lights on when you’re there. It’s a fucking cave."

"Oh! Also, you were an ass to me and didn’t speak to me for weeks," Jimin offered up, his tone light in an attempt to communicate to Yoongi that he was obviously being playful and there weren’t any hard feelings between them.

"Uh, and then _you_ ignored _me_ for a while there, too. Let’s not forget that," Yoongi defended.

"No one cares about that part," Baekhyun snorted.

"Okay, but also there’s the part where there’s clear sexual and romantic tension between you two, so again it’s your fault for not acting on it because I’m sure if you’d have given into it, you would have spent _many_ nights in Jimin’s bed, thus providing many opportunities for breakfast with the roommates, seeing as how you would’ve bedded Jimin the night before."

"Oh, right," Yoongi sighed. "I forgot everyone thinks we’re in love. Well, at least we got this far in the night this time before someone reminded us."

"How could you forget?" Jimin gasped, his hand going to his chest in an attempt to clutch at his invisible pearl necklace.

"Oh, _my love_ ," Yoongi turned towards the younger male. "Please, anything to get you near my ass tonight. I just… I can’t go a moment longer without your lips on me."

"I don’t talk like that!" Baekhyun frowned, clearly offended by Yoongi’s poor attempt of mockery.

A chorus of voices began to creep up behind them, and suddenly they were bombarded with five more people joining them at the table. Jimin stood to hug everyone and exchange pleasantries before everyone settled back down.

Chanyeol joined Jimin, already knowing everyone joining them, but Baekhyun and Yoongi remained mostly quiet, waving and saying a quick 'Hello' when required.

"Yoongi, Baekhyun," Jimin called out, gesturing to his left. "This is Namjoon and Seokjin. They’re the people I was telling you about that are with the company, but don’t do performances."

"Why don’t you dance?" Baekhyun turned to ask, the question soft as if he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask or not.

"Because they can’t dance," Hoseok snickered, pulling a menu from the center of the table.

"And this," Jimin continued on, nodding towards the now-filled chairs in front of them. "This is Hoseok and Taehyung, my roommates. And there at the end of the table is Jeongguk, Taehyung’s secret boyfriend that isn’t actually a secret because everyone knows, but they still act like we don’t."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at Taehyung for help.

"Now you kinda sound like Jimin and Yoongi," Baekhyun called out, which, of course, earned him a few laughs and few pairs of judging eyes, but Yoongi was only paying half-attention at this point, his eyes carefully directing Hoseok sitting in front of him. Hoseok was doing the same to him. To wondering eyes it probably looked nonchalant, if it was even noticeable at all, but when Hoseok gave Yoongi a nod that Yoongi quickly returned, their eyes broke apart from each other, and dinner carried on like normal.


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: OKAY, FRIENDS! … few things here  
> 1\. i want to thank everyone for being so, so patient with my lack of updating + all the support i received when i announced my hiatus. i was going through a whole bunch of stuff, and even after the announcement more stuff happened, so had i tried to push myself to update it would’ve just been even worse, so thank you for providing an atmosphere that i felt comfortable taking time for myself with!
> 
> 2\. since things have gotten worse, things have also gotten better! (so don’t worry about me). i have a much better support system now full of much more honest, caring people. i have never felt more happy and safe with a group of people and i have never felt more like myself. on that note, i have made the decision to go back to college (i was in college in 2016, but dropped out due to personal health issues) and i started again back in january! so even though i’m back, healthy, and happy, i never know what school brings, so there may be times where updates may be distanced apart, but hopefully this will not be the case.
> 
> 3\. I’M GONNA LEVEL WITH Y’ALL. when i first had this idea for a record shop au, i didn’t plan it through. i was just like "OH, that’d be cute!" and i didn’t plan farther than i could reach, so that was part of my issue with running into a place where i couldn’t continue. with how crazy my life was, i had seriously begun to plan a plot where this fic actually turned out to be yoonseok, and yoongi and hoseok had been a couple this whole time and it was just one big plot to kill jimin, because they’re serial killers that got off to the idea of seducing and tricking their victims, but it just felt so out of place and i feel in my life i settle for bad endings, so i wanted to challenge myself and i wanted to see good come from my mind. so since the last actual chapter update (october 27, 2017), i have struggled with finding a story that made sense…. up until last night. i’ve actually planned it, y’all! i know what i’m doing and i’m ready to this for both y’all and me here. so please, please stick through. i promise no one dies and i promise it’s a happy yoonmin ending (even if at times it may not appear that way).
> 
> 4\. i have gone back through and corrected some things in chapters 1-7. i had to reread it to make sure i didn't contradict myself, and i found a few grammatical/storyline mistakes, so i fixed them. if you have already read the chapters, you're good to go. the story didn't change at all, just little mistakes that i made that i only noticed when i went through this with a fine comb (but to be honest, i could have used a better comb)
> 
> IN SUMMARY: thank you for being patient with me, i love y’all, and here’s the real chapter eight
> 
> (p.s. if ur just stumbling across this fic, previously in the chapter 8 slot was a note announcing my hiatus from this fic. chapter seven was posted october 27, 2017 and the notice was posted november 20, 2017. and now on this day, february 12, 2018, i am taking it down and officially ending my hiatus. so like, don’t be confused. i was just gone for a rly long time n most of what’s above just to the people who have been following this story since the first chapter was posted in august of 2017)

The truth is that love is one of life’s best-kept secrets. Sure, everyone has heard of it. A lot of people think they experience it. It’s desired by nearly everyone. But you see, the thing is they don’t tell you how unbelievably different it is for everyone. Love is not one thing. It is never the same for any one person, and there’s never any way of knowing whether it will be hard or easy until you’ve already started to fall into it. The secret is that most people will live their life trying to create it when it already exists, and it doesn’t always appear in ways we’d expect.

 

* * *

 

_ june _

"Jimin-Hyung! Hoseok-Hyung!" Taehyung called out, making a grand entrance as he entered the room, his forceful grip caught strong around Jeongguk’s wrist as he dragged the younger boy into the house behind him, the younger’s brows and lips positioned in a slight plea as Taehyung brought him into the living room where Jimin and Hoseok were gathered.

"Taehyung," Jeongguk insisted, trying to yank his arm away. "Come on, maybe it _is_ too soon for this. You were right. Can we just, like, go get food or something?"

Taehyung stopped in his tracks, quickly turning around to narrow his eyes at the boy before jerking his head to either side, shaking it as he pulled him closer, his eyes softening for a moment before he turned back to face his two elders on the couch.

"Uh, are either of you dying?" Jimin asked, confusion drenching his tone as Hoseok and he exchanged a look, both sets of eyes equally as lost as they tried to figure out what was going on with Taehyung and Jeongguk.

"No—" Taehyung started.

"Yes, _me_ ," Jeongguk quickly interrupted, earning a flick of Taehyung’s wrist that led to the older boy dragging Jeongguk around his body to stand in front of him. Jeongguk would have protested, but Taehyung wrapped his arms around his waist and dragged him back to rest against his front before Jeongguk could think of a proper complaint.

"We wanted to tell you two something," Taehyung continued on, ignoring Jeongguk’s comment. "Something that we’ve been kinda keeping a secret for a while, but now we feel we’re ready to open up about and we wanted to start with telling you two since you’re our two closest friends."

"Wait, did you two break up?" Hoseok sat up, worry creeping into his voice as he leaned forward towards the boys, preparing to stand up to go to them to comfort them at the first sign of confirmation.

"What— _no_!" Jeongguk rushed, twisting his head back to look at Taehyung who only grabbed onto him tighter. "You already told them, you ass! I thought we were going to tell them together."

"Tell us _what_ together?" Jimin spoke up. "Did you two actually break up?"

"I didn’t tell them anything," Taehyung defended, his hands pressing into Jeongguk’s stomach. "I swear!"

"Then why would they be guessing that we broke up when we tell them we have news _when we never even told them we were together in the first place_?"

"I didn’t tell them we were! Jeongguk, _seriously_. We said we weren’t gonna tell, so I didn’t. I promise I didn’t just go around telling everyone without you."

"Then why—"

"Wait," Jimin began, a loud bark of a laugh following after as the couple standing in front of them grew quiet. "Did you two just come in here to announce that you’re dating?"

"Yeah, for like the past ten months" Jeongguk confirmed, turning back to face him, his eyes narrowed in and pupils heavy. "But apparently _Taehyung_ already ruined the surprise. That figures."

"You two are so unbelievably stupid. Like, more stupid than Jimin and Yoongi if you honestly believe this is something everyone didn’t already know," Hoseok explained, using all of his strength to prohibit himself from joining in on Jimin’s laughing.

"Yeah! Wait—" Jimin yanked his head towards Hoseok, sucking in a heavy breath. "Hyung, what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Don’t curse at your elders, you brat," Hoseok responded, rolling his eyes as he made quick work of grabbing the nearest throw pillow and launched it towards Jimin face.

Jimin caught it with ease, his fingers gripping roughly at the cushion before he turned his attention back to Taehyung and Jeongguk, choosing to ignore Hoseok and his comment.

"Anyway," Jimin finally spoke, leaning back into the cushion of the couch. "Yes, everyone knows about you two. We weren’t just making jokes about you being a couple. We actually all knew you were a couple. We get that you thought it was a secret and all, but it isn’t."

"Yeah," Hoseok agreed. "I’m sure what goes into the workings of your relationship is your secret and all, and I’m sure it’s very personal and sensual on a level that none of us understand, especially when it comes to you two, but everyone knew there was something _between_ the two of you. Love is hard to keep a secret."

"Oh," Jeongguk offered, sinking back into Taehyung’s hold as all anger fled from his body, the room falling silent enough for even Jimin and Hoseok to hear the murmur of "I told you I didn’t tell them" coming from Taehyung’s lips, but neither of them commented knowing the words were for Jeongguk’s ears alone.

"However," Hoseok began again. "Since now technically the secret’s out of the bag, does that mean we get like, sex details? Or are those still a secret, too?"

"Yeah, we’re gonna go get some lunch," Taehyung replied, his hands slipping from Jeongguk’s body as he took a step back towards the doorway. "Neither of you are welcome to join us."

"Is that because lunch involves someone’s ass?" Jimin pushed, scooting in closer to Hoseok. "Wait! At least tell us who’s ass is on the menu. Wait— _no_. Do I even want to know the answer to that?"

"Shit, I don’t know about you," Hoseok cut in. "But I sure as hell do."

"Can you two stop?" Jeongguk pleaded, his face a deep red that was in no competition with Taehyung’s face that seemed to hold no reaction to Jimin and Hoseok’s questions. That seemed to be answer enough, sending the two older boys into another fit of laughter. Jeongguk turned to look at Taehyung, his eyes a little desperate, asking for help. Taehyung stepped back up behind him, his hand slipping around Jeongguk’s arm as he gave the younger boy a comforting smile before nodding.

"Jimin-Hyung," Taehyung said softly, his voice full of innocence and mischief. "I’ll tell you who offers their ass up in our relationship when you tell us who does it in your relationship."

"My relationship with who?" Jimin slowed, his laugh still caught in his throat as he tried to make sense of Taehyung’s words.

"Yoongi, of course," Taehyung grinned, Jimin’s laughing stopping completely immediately as his body ran cold, and Jeongguk’s laughter could be heard until the moment Taehyung dragged him out of the house and let the door fall shut behind them.

("I, uh…"

"What?" Jimin looked to Hoseok, who still had a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"I kinda wanna know who bottoms in y’all’s relationship, too…"

"Hyung!" Jimin cried out, swinging the pillow still in his grasps towards the older boy, repeatedly drawing his arm back to strike him repeatedly until Hoseok cried out in surrender.)

 

_ july _

"Do you ever think about getting yourself a girlfriend?"

The question came during one afternoon in Yoongi’s shop. Jimin was sitting on the counter, his back to the records that were scattered around on their shelves in the shop, and Yoongi was sat between his legs, on his usual spot on his stool. On Jimin’s thigh, Yoongi was balancing a journal, and Jimin had remained mostly silent for the most part as Yoongi used his leg as a form of a table as he scribbled random things across the pages.

Jimin knew they were lyrics, but it wasn’t a song. Not yet, anyway. Sometimes Yoongi would come up with random things and he’d have to write them down, but it wasn’t until later that he would try and organize the thoughts into an actual song worth listening to. Yoongi was comfortable enough with Jimin to let the boy read whatever he wrote. They had their arrangement. As long as Jimin didn’t ask too many questions or tell anyone about Yoongi’s songwriting, he basically had free reign to read and listen as much as he pleased, not that Yoongi often turned the lyrics into actual songs.

"Hm?" Yoongi asked, pausing this writing to peek up from behind his lashes and look up at Jimin.

"A girlfriend. Do you ever think about getting one? Like, for yourself. To date. Kiss. Love. You know, one of those girlfriend things that people sometimes get?"

"Oh, uh," Yoongi tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment before shrugging. "No, not really? Stuff like that isn’t usually on my mind."

"Oh, shit— I’m sorry. _Boyfriend_. Do you ever thinking about getting yourself a boyfriend?" Jimin’s face heated up, worried that he might’ve offended him for a second or assumed incorrectly about something, but Yoongi just lifted his free hand up to pat the empty spot on Jimin’s left thigh.

"No, no. You misunderstood," Yoongi laughing a bit as he shook his head. "I mean, like, I don’t think about _any_ of that. Like, dating in general. I mean, well… okay, it’d be a lie to say I _never_ thought about any of that, but I don’t think about it enough to actually consider finding someone? Like, it’s not the biggest priority for me."

"Don’t you ever want to like, be in love? Settle down? Like, your two lifelong friends are both in a very successful marriage and they’re adopting a child, and like, getting really close to actually having that third life in their… well, _life_. I just like, I guess I’m wondering how your two most influential friendships can represent something so wonderful and beautiful and you don’t even think about having something like that for yourself. Are they secretly unhappy and you’re the only one that’s in on the act?"

"Honey, you ask a lot of questions." _Honey_. Yoongi’s voice was like honey.

"You don’t have to answer any of them," Jimin shrugged. He didn’t bother apologizing. They both knew he asked too many questions, and they both knew Yoongi only answered what he was comfortable answering and what he wanted to answer.

Yoongi looked down in front of him. It was just by luck that this happened to direct the older boy’s line of sight directly towards Jimin’s crotch, but it didn’t seem to register to either of them that Yoongi’s eyes were boring into one of his most private of places while his hands were placed a matter of inches away.

"I mean, I guess I _do_ want that, you know? I mean, I can’t think of anyone that wouldn’t want that, not that it’d be a bad thing to not want that. Not everyone wants the same things or the same people, or even the same kinds of people. For me, though, I just don’t feel that I _need_ it. I don’t need it to be happy. If I ever found myself in a relationship with someone and both of us decided the rest of our lives together is what we wanted, then I’d like to think I go for it," Yoongi spoke, his voice soft and calculative.

"I also feel," he continued. "That a lot of people fill too much of their definition of 'happiness' with shit about love and stuff. And to me, that’s pretty risky. And not like, in a romantic kind of risky. Risky like, in a way that you want love so much and you have such a heavy and obsessive need for it that your mind will trick you into settling. Settling for someone less than what you deserve. Or like, settling for someone that if you really gave them some thought, you’d know they’re not who or what you want, but you think that because you spent so much of your life 'needing' love that you convince yourself that this person you have feelings for is actually someone you need. You shouldn’t love someone because you need them, I feel. I feel that you should need them _because_ you love them."

Jimin looked down at him, his eyes wide and full of uncharted territory and oh, how he wanted to reach down and brush the boy’s hair back so that he could see the boy’s expression. But he didn’t. He didn’t need to, because Yoongi finally looked up from between Jimin’s legs, gifting the younger boy with a gummy smile and bright eyes that he’d happily drown himself in.

"Does that make sense?" Yoongi asked. "I mean, what do I know? You’re right, my best friends are both happily married and they’ve been together almost as long as all of us have been friends, so you might actually be justified in telling me I’m wrong. I’m alone, no one else is. I mean, I’m perfectly fine on my own, don’t worry about me, but that doesn’t mean I’m right."

"No, I.. Actually, it makes a lot of sense. You should write a book or something. I’m sure all the other boys in their twenties that live on the couch in the back of their studio would read it. You could form a club or something, and you could be the president since you literally wrote the book—"

"Okay, that’s rude," Yoongi frowned, his gums disappearing behind his gloomy expression and his eyebrows tightening enough to offset how soft Yoongi’s eyes were. "I said you could _disagree_ with me, not make fun of me. I don’t hear you going on and on about your supposed partner, so you don’t have much room to poke fingers at me."

"I was _kidding_ , Hyung! Gosh, take a joke. It actually does make plenty of sense. Especially the part about needing and wanting."

"The whole thing was about needing and wanting, Jimin."

"Well, then the whole thing makes sense," Jimin shrugged. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded, turning his attention back to his journal, the tip of his pen tapping the page as he waited for the next words to flow through him.

"Boyfriend?"

"Mhm," he hummed, his pen still tapping.

"Do you want to know who I’ve dated?"

Yoongi scoffed under his breath, the strands of his hair moving with his head as he shook it, circling his pen on the page, drawing over and over the same pattern again.

"What? Why not? Am I not interesting enough for you to wonder if I’ve dated boys or girls?"

"You date boys," Yoongi answered, it was his only response.

"What makes you think I’ve never dated a girl?" Jimin pouted, holding his thigh very still as to not disrupt Yoongi’s writing surface.

"You strike me as the type to maybe have kissed a girl when you were like, seven or something, and then figured out pretty much in that moment that you were gay."

"That’s not true! I—" Jimin started to defend himself, but one look from Yoongi had him stopping his protest, knowing that Yoongi was pretty much mostly right. "For the record, I was nine."

"That’s close enough," Yoongi’s eyes probably would’ve rolled into the back of his head and stayed there if they could’ve.

"So you like boys and girls?" Jimin asked.

"I like… _people_ , I suppose. It’s not so much of a gender thing. I don’t care about that shit. I mean— not that it’s bad if you do care about that shit or if you can or can’t like certain genders. If you can, that’s good for you. If you can’t, that’s good for you. But for me? I just don’t care, and that’s…"

"Good for you?" Jimin finished, his voice holding a question that wasn’t really there asking anything.

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded, looking back down to read over some of the words he’d already written on the page, a sigh caught in his throat before he looked to Jimin’s other thigh. "And I like your thighs. You have nice thighs."

 

_ august _

"Jimin-Hyung!" Jeongguk called out from his spot on Taehyung’s lap. They had decided to do a game night to celebrate the beginning of the new dance season. Of course, the summer one was still approaching its close and still hadn’t quite ended, but auditions were already commencing for the fall season and auditions would be starting soon. "We thought you were never gonna show up."

Jimin looked down at his watch as Baekhyun shut the door behind him, slapping his hand down on Jimin’s shoulder as he pushed him deeper into the room.

"What do you mean? I’m literally eleven minutes early," Jimin said, looking around the room and trying to get a gauge on the small crowd. "We were supposed to show up at seven, right?"

No one had really showed up. The only people in the room were Taehyung, Jeongguk, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Hoseok. Three of their usual crowd were still missing from the room.

"I mean, yeah, but you’re usually, like, the first person to show up. I just thought you’d have been here like, at five."

"Ignore him," Taehyung sighed, giving Jeongguk’s side a squeeze as Jimin took a seat across from them at the coffee table. "He’s just a little extra hyper today."

"Uh, why? Is he sitting on your dick over there?"

" _No_ ," Jeongguk spat out. "Taehyung and I are just—"

"Baby, shut up. Not everyone’s here yet. See, this is proof that you’re the one bad at keeping secrets. You’re never allowed to accuse me of that again. It’s a new rule, starting now."

"But it’s big news!"

"Are you getting married?" Hoseok asked, causing Taehyung to nearly choke on the air that was entering his lungs.

"No! Fu— _No_ , oh my God. We’ve only been like, a thing for a couple months."

"No," Jeongguk corrected. "We’ve been a 'thing' for a year. We’ve been out to all our friends for a couple of months. Taehyung, literally. What the fuck?"

"You know what I mean, Guk. It’s all the same thing."

"No, it isn’t!"

"Ladies, ladies," Yoongi called out, turning the corner from the kitchen and entering the living room. "You’re both beautiful, there’s enough of me to go around."

"Honestly, you’re disgusting," Baekhyun snorted, plopping down on the couch between Chanyeol and the bickering couple as he glared at Yoongi from across the room.

"I can’t help that I’m so irresistible," Yoongi shrugged, walking over to where Jimin was sitting. "You’re late, that’s a first."

"I’m not— _Hey_!" Jimin’s defense was cut off as he swatted at Yoongi in protest, the elder’s boys hand latching onto his head and ruffling up his hair as he moved around the side of the chair. He snickered under his breath as he moved to stand in front of the boy. He let Jimin slap his hands away as he used his legs to knock Jimin’s legs open, making enough room for himself before he sat between his legs, turning himself so his back faced the younger boy and he could look at everyone else in the room.

Jimin looked down to watch as the older boy kicked his legs out in front of him, shoving them underneath the coffee table, and then he noticed Yoongi’s hair. It was a different color. It was wet, but it was definitely a different color. This time, unlike all the other times he wanted to, he didn’t stop himself from reaching his hand out to stroke his fingers through the boy’s hair, the wet strands easily flowing with Jimin’s touch. Yoongi only sank back into him, letting him do as he pleased. This earned them a look from Hoseok, who was now the only one watching them, but there was something about the way he looked at them that Jimin couldn’t quite figure out.

"What games are we playing tonight?" Jeongguk asked, turning both the conversation and everyone’s attention in the room. "Monopoly? Candy Land?"

"Sweetheart, that’s really cute that you think we’re here to play board games," Yoongi snorted from his spot between Jimin’s thighs, his nose turning up as he looked over to where Baekhyun and Chanyeol were sitting. "Tell me you guys didn’t invite actual children here. I love Jeongguk and all, but honestly, he’s enough kid for me."

Jimin still had his hand in Yoongi’s hair. He didn’t stop even though the wetness was making his fingers cold. He only moved his hand when Yoongi turned, making sure he didn’t lose hold of him.

"Is this how you’re going to be as an uncle?" Chanyeol asked, rolling his eyes as he leaned into Baekhyun, the pair easily falling into their comforting sync of each other. "You know, there’s going to be an 'actual' child around here. And who knows, we might end up with more than one."

"Okay, but that’s still a few months down the road before it’s final. I’m a kidless bachelor, I should be allowed to enjoy my game night before you two subject children into my life, you know? I agreed to children, but I did not agree to them ruining game night before any said children could even make their first appearance."

"You’re so dramatic," Baekhyun laughed, finding more amusement in Yoongi than anyone else. Chanyeol and Yoongi were always really close, but Baekhyun and Yoongi were more in line with each other. Well, not as in line as Baekhyun and Chanyeol were, but that was obviously different.

"And Jimin’s late. Are we ignoring that fact completely?" Yoongi countered, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"Yeah! Even Taehyung and I were here before him, and we’re always late."

"That’s because when Taehyung shows up to pick you up, you two always end up fucking at your place. Plus your place is the farthest away from everything so you just end up being _double_ late to everything. Maybe if the two of you could learn to keep your pants on everyone would show up on time," Hoseok barked, his comment of which caused Taehyung to feel the need to try and kick the older boy, which resulted in Jeongguk nearly falling off his lap.

"That’s actually what we wanted to talk to everyone about," Taehyung finally said when he recovered Jeongguk’s balance on his lap.

Are you two going celibate? If you try and drag us all into a 'No Sex' pact I’m going to have to shut you down right now," Jimin chuckled, his fingers beginning to rub small circles into Yoongi’s scalp, drawing a low moan from the older boy’s throat.

"Jimin, you don’t even have a sex life," Taehyung sighed, his head dropping forward to let his chin sink into Jeongguk’s shoulder. "You forget I’ve lived with you for years. I know what the house sounds like when you’re having sex with someone versus you not having sex with someone."

"Okay, one…. I am not that loud."

"No," Hoseok joined in, a laughing edge to his words. "But the other person usually is."

"Hey!" Yoongi chirped, his head tilting back to try and get an eyeful of Jimin, raising his hand up with his palm facing the younger boy. "Nice job, kid. I didn’t think you had that in you."

Jimin’s face was instantly flooded with heat. He usually was never open about his sexual habits, especially when he was in a part of his life where he was actually partaking in any, so it was always a little bit embarrassing when the others talked about it, but this was the first time Yoongi was a part of it. _Yoongi_ , whose hand was still hanging in the air. Ignoring all eyes on him, he gave into the older boy, slapping his free palm against it. He intended for it to be quick, to be over in an instant, but Yoongi slotted his fingers between Jimin’s, locking their hands together in a commanding grip. Jimin let him hold on. He let himself hold on, even as Yoongi repositioned his arm in the air to rest against Jimin’s thigh so their hands could stay linked together. Neither of them let go.

There was a chilling silence in the room. Everyone seemed to be watching them, waiting for something to happen. No one knew what, but it was pretty evident that neither Jimin or Yoongi seemed to notice their stares, Baekhyun’s voice eventually cutting through the tension.

"Anyway," he coughed, his hand dropping to rest on Chanyeol’s knee."I’m gonna have to pass on the no sex thing, too. And I do speak for both Chanyeol and me."

"Yeah, same goes for me," Yoongi agreed, his head dropping back down to look at the others.

"Who the fuck are _you_ having sex with?" Chanyeol snorted. "I think we just established that Jimin isn’t having sex."

"Firstly, we established that Jimin’s not having sex in his house. I don’t know if any of you realized this, but there’s a lot more to the world than his bedroom. And secondly, just because I openly appreciate his thighs doesn’t mean we’re having sex. Though I do feel I’d regret it if I didn’t have these thighs crushing my skull at least on one occasion during my dull, boring life."

"Okay, now it’s my turn to say you’re disgusting," Jimin groaned, his fingers pressing harder into the elder’s scalp, hoping to cause some physical pain to him, but the boy only pressed back against Jimin’s hand.

"Baby, move your hand a little lower, will you? The chemicals from the hair dye always give me a fucking headache, you have no idea how good this feels right now."

"I hope you die," Baekhyun spoke, his voice heavy and full of defeat, but still Jimin gave into him anyway, his hand moving down the back of Yoongi’s head to scratch at the back of his scalp. Yoongi squeezed his hand tighter. Neither of them had let go.

"No, but seriously," Chanyeol spoke back up, a slight impatient edge to his voice. " _Who_ are you having sex with?"

"Was that the door?" Hoseok interrupted, his voice booming and antsy as he stood up from his place. "I’m pretty sure I heard the door."

"No one’s at the door, Hyung," Jeongguk stated, his head tilting to the side.

Only Jimin noticed the look between Yoongi and Chanyeol. Yoongi’s eyes were cold, uncaring. Chanyeol’s almost looked… angry? Though Jimin didn’t understand what was being exchanged between the two, he finally pulled his hand from Yoongi’s grip, the older boy freezing up under the hand still in his hair. There was something about this that made Jimin’s stomach twist, leaving an ill taste in the back of his throat.

Just then there was a knock at the door, and Hoseok being already near it took the opportunity to open it and let Namjoon and Seokjin inside, the pair apologizing for being late.

"You didn’t miss much," Baekhyun explained. "Just Jeongguk and Taehyung deciding to give up sex and trying to convince the rest of us to do the same."

"Good luck with that," Namjoon injected, nodding his head back at Seokjin. "That one there is insatiable."

"Yes, Namjoon, please. Tell everyone all the details of how I am in bed. That’s _exactly_ what I wanted you to do. How did you know?" Seokjin jabbed back, shrugging off his coat as Hoseok closed the door behind the pair.

"Me? Never. I don’t kiss and tell, thank you," Namjoon mocked, making his way towards Chanyeol and Baekhyun, his hand gesturing them to break apart, an action the couple obliged before Namjoon took it upon himself to squeeze himself in between them.

"Why are we giving up sex anyway?" Hoseok cautioned.

"He means 'Why is everyone but Jimin giving up sex?'," Namjoon corrected.

"I give up," Jimin breathed, his voice deadpanned and exasperated.

"We _aren’t_ giving up sex," Taehyung explained, his fingers digging into Jeongguk’s hip. "Go ahead, tell them."

"They’re moving in together," Yoongi explained, the statement technically a guess, but his tone sure and unwavering.

"What the fuck, Hyung?" Jeongguk complained, twisting in Taehyung’s lap. "That was supposed to be my line. It was our news, not yours!"

"Yeah, yeah," the older boy shrugged, his voice a mixture of dread and playfulness. "Congratulations, I’m happy for you two."

"Wait," Hoseok frowned, moving to sit at the coffee table, Seokjin following suit. "Jimin and I are your roommates, Taehyung. Why didn’t we get to know first?"

"We just wanted to tell everyone at once," Jeongguk bubbled. "Well, no, _I_ wanted to tell everyone at once. Don’t be mad at him, it was my idea. Plus, we told you we were dating first."

"Technically that doesn't count, everyone knew," Yoongi pointed out.

"You’re both dicks," Jimin proclaimed, the wide grin on his face clashing with his words. "But I’m so damn happy for you two."

"Honestly?" Taehyung questioned, hope swirling in with the doubt.

"Honestly," Hoseok nodded.

 

* * *

 

The best-kept secret about love is that it always exists. It doesn’t always belong to you or the people in your life, but it’s always around you. It demands respect, it demands time, and it demands patience. You can’t always grab the first thing you see and call it love. You can’t demand love to take a certain form or shape. You can’t always fit it in a box to meet your needs or to describe a person who it doesn't belong to. It’s also not always something that’s just meant to be. That isn’t to say that you can’t have it, but it goes to show that sometimes you have to work for it, letting yourself feel the slow burn of painfully falling in before suddenly love is drowning in you and not the other way around.


	9. nine

"We’re really gonna miss you, Tae," Jimin frowned from his spot on the bed, finishing up the stack of shirts he was folding as Taehyung began to transfer them into the cardboard box that sat in the center of the bed. There on the side, the strokes of the black marker spelling out the Korean word for 'clothes' was written in big, _neat_ letters.

_ 옷 _ . It was Taehyung’s box, but the handwriting was Jimin’s.

"Speak for yourself," Hoseok jibbed from the doorway. He wasn’t necessarily being much help to the actual packing process, though if you asked him he’d insist that he was helping with the 'overall well-being of everyone in the world' by insisting on boycotting Taehyung’s move. He had given multiple speeches over the past few weeks on why it’d be crippling to the planet’s survival if Taehyung were to leave their safe nest of a house behind the library (a library by which they thought they’d use, but in all honesty none of them had even stepped foot in once during their years in the house. Its only purpose was for easy directions: _"It’s the house behind the library."_ )

" _Oh_ , Hoseok-Hyung," Taehyung consoled, his voice apologetic and full of sympathy as he dropped half of the stack into the box. "I know this is hard, okay? It’s hard for me, too, I promise. You’re not alone in this and believe me, I understand that."

"No you don’t!" the boy protested. "You’re the one leaving, and you’ll have Jeongguk where you’re going. I’m going to be left in this house without you."

"Uh, I still live here, you know?" Jimin hesitated, not wanting to upset Hoseok even further, but also hoping to bring some comfort to him all the while.

"Yeah!" Taehyung proclaimed. "You’ll still have Jimin. And you know, you’re still going to _see_ me, Hyung. I’m not moving out of your life, I’m just moving out of the house. What’s that stupid saying? 'Home is where the heart is?' A home isn’t a house, a home is what fills your heart."

" _Jesus Christ,_ that’s so disgusting," Jimin scoffed playfully, handing off the other half of the folded pile to Taehyung. "Did Jeongguk fill you with that sap? If so, we have a bigger problem than you _moving_ on our hands. He’s turning you into some freak in love."

"I _am_ some freak in love," Taehyung shrugged, taking the pile before setting it beside the other half already inside the box.

"Wait, if a home is where the heart is, why do you have to move in with Jeongguk to be in love? You can be in love with him from a house. Your homes are in your stupid hearts anyway, why do you have to put them in the same room all the time?"

"You’re being awfully moody about this, Hoseok," Taehyung laughed. "Are you sure you aren’t spending too much time around Yoongi?"

Something passed over Hoseok’s face too quick for either Jimin or Taehyung to even fully register before Hoseok brushed it off, leaning a bit out of the room.

"I spend an appropriate amount of time with Yoongi, thank you. You should get to know him more, actually. He’s really a decent person, I get why Jimin worked so hard to make sure he got to be in our lives."

"Yeah, _I_ worked," Jimin grinned. "Meaning _I_ was the one who put up with him being a total jackass for nearly a year until he finally started to soften the fuck out enough to where he was allowed in public around other people. That was _my_ work, thank you."

"You—" Taehyung started, a playful agreement beginning at his lips, but was cut off by Hoseok.

"He wasn’t your charity case, Jimin-ah." Hoseok’s eyes were narrowed a bit, and his voice was strained like he was putting too much effort into keeping his usual cheerful tone. "You didn’t change him. Any changing that happened he did by himself, _for_ himself. He didn’t change for you. He didn’t need to change for you."

"Hyung?" Jimin yelped. "No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. It was just a joke, I know all of that. It’s seriously _just_ a joke—"

"But it wasn’t a funny one," Hoseok declared, turning out of the doorway and out of their sights.

Jimin and Taehyung both remained in a state of confusion, both of their expressions masking a twin perplexion as they sat in silence.

"What was…" Taehyung tried, his voice unsure as if he didn’t even know what questions to start asking. "What was that about?"

"I’ve no idea," Jimin sighed, looked beside him where Taehyung’s jeans sat in a messy pile. He dragged them to sit in front of him, grabbing the first pair to fold as he shook his head. "I really have no idea."

 

* * *

 

"We only had to help you pack, right?" Hoseok asked as he set the final box down on the floor of Taehyung and Jeongguk’s new kitchen. "We don’t have to stay around and help you unpack, do we? Like, that’s your job?"

"First of all, you didn’t even _help_ pack," Taehyung groaned. "You stood and watched Jimin and I do all of the work."

"I was the emotional support team," Hoseok explained. "Besides, I helped you get all these boxes here, didn’t I? Where’s my credit for that?"

"You’re an idiot, Hyung, but yeah, you’re right. You did help get the boxes here and you unloaded most of them. And no, you don’t have to help unpack. Jeongguk and I wanted to do that together, so that we can like, organizing our new home how we want."

"I thought your home was your hear—"

"Hoseok!" Jimin exclaimed. "Let’s go out for lunch, yeah? Jeongguk and Taehyung deserve some alone time. We deserve some food."

Taehyung gave the boy a gracious look, extending his arms out wide for a hug.

"Come on, you two," he pleaded. "I’m going to miss you guys so much."

Jimin went to him readily, Hoseok went to him doubtfully. In the grand scheme of things everyone knew Hoseok was both proud and excited for both Taehyung and Jimin, so no one took offense to his attitude towards the whole thing. They knew he was just playing it down, trying to convince himself it wasn’t as big of a deal as it actually was so that he didn’t have to genuinely be sad about it.

They stood there hugging for nearly a minute before Jimin pulled away, grabbing at Hoseok’s sleeve as he stepped back.

"Come on, Hyung. It’s time to go."

Hoseok gave Taehyung one more tight squeeze before he finally listened, turning away from Taehyung and walking out the door without taking another look back, leaving Jimin and Taehyung there alone.

"We’ll, uh, _I’ll_ see you later, okay?" Taehyung asked.

"Of course," Jimin nodded, giving him one more soft smile before following Hoseok out the door.

 

* * *

 

"We’re going to be alright, you know?" Jimin mumbled through a mouthful of food. Hoseok gave him a pointed, and Jimin took the time to swallow the bite before finishing his thought. "We’re still going to see Taehyung all the time— _and Jeongguk_. Jeongguk is our friend, too. It’s not like we just handed him off to some random stranger or some kid we barely ever see."

"Yeah, I know. I get it, I really am happy for them," Hoseok pushed out, a confession hanging off the edge of his lips. "I just, Taehyung’s the youngest of us. Well, Taehyung _and_ Jeongguk are the youngest of us, and like? It makes me wonder if _we’ll_ ever have something like that— If _I’ll_ ever have something like that."

"Hyung, don’t be ridiculous," Jimin spoke, his voice as soft as the pair of eyes that fell down to find Hoseok’s face and the hand that reached out to grip Hoseok’s arm. "You’re going to find someone, I just know it! Just because you haven’t had a serious relationship before doesn’t mean you won’t ever have one."

"But that’s the thing, Jimin-ah. I _have_ had a serious relationship before, and it ended up so badly and I don’t know if I _can_ go through that again."

"You have? How come none of us know about this?"

"It happened before I met any of you," the elder boy shrugged. "He wasn’t abusive or anything, and it wasn’t entirely his fault. We crashed and burned together, I guess? It never felt worth mentioning."

"Oh, _well_ ," Jimin pondered, his voice trailing off at the end as he tried to think of the next words to say. He could tell Hoseok wasn’t comfortable with the topic of his past relationship. "What about now? I thought you were kinda seeing one?"

"That’s just a sex thing," Hoseok lamented. "That’s definitely not going to turn into anything more."

"Why not? You obviously _want_ more. Maybe what you want isn’t with this person, maybe it is, but why not?"

The younger’s boys thoughts were a mess spread all over the place, and Hoseok remained quiet as he waited for the boy to figure out where he was going. He could practically see the wheels turning in the boy’s head. There was something about the pause Jimin took and the way his eyes seemed to disappear for a second that reminded Hoseok of Yoongi. He was thinking, just like scruffy shop owner would. Jimin was often happier around Yoongi and when Yoongi was mentioned, but Hoseok couldn’t recall a time that he’d actually seen a flash of Yoongi across Jimin’s face.

"Okay, so you _say_ you want more, and you’re in a sex relationship-y thing that you at least feel won’t turn into anything more, right?"

"Right," Hoseok confirmed, taking another bite of food.

"Then why stay with them? If it’s _you_ that doesn’t want more with this specific person, then you’re wasting your time, right? You could be out there finding someone who you _do_ want that with— someone who you can have more with. And if it’s this person that couldn’t want more with _you_ , then, well… first off, _they’re_ an idiot, Hyung. You’re so wonderful and amazing and if this person can’t see that, that’s their loss. And if it’s them, then you don’t need to subject yourself to someone that isn’t going to give you what you want or deserve."

"I mean, you’re right," Hoseok swallowed, hesitation and doubt present on his face and in his voice. "But it’s not that simple. I don’t think either of us is on the same page."

"Well, what page are _you_ on? Let’s start with that. Could you want more with this person?"

"That’s not a simple answer either, Jimin-ah," Hoseok sighed.

"Why not? Don’t even think about anything else. Just the person. If everything could go the right way and no other outside factors made it difficult or complicated to be with this person forever, would you be with them? Yes or no? Don’t even think about it, just spit out an answer."

"Yes? _No!_ I, uh… I don’t _know_."

"God, you’re so complicated, Hyung," Jimin mused, shoving a quick bite of food into his mouth, the bite disappearing down the back of his throat almost as soon as it hit his tongue. Hoseok gave him a forced laugh, trying to keep his face light as he looked down at the table.

"I guess I’m just afraid of someone getting hurt," Hoseok explained. "It’s pretty much almost a guarantee with this person. And it’s not even like, just a risk of me getting hurt or _them_. Other people could be in danger, here."

"Hyung, it’s a _relationship_. Not some drug cartel or mob gone rogue. No one’s going to die. The only people you should be concerned about here is yourself and this person. If they’re going to be happy and _you’re_ going to be happy, then there’s nothing else you need to worry about. Anyone you’re worried about getting hurt is either a friend, family member, or both, right? Well, if you mean as much to them as they mean to you to have you worried about their feelings, then they’ll get over it and learn to be happy for you. Fuck them, you know?"

"I guess you’re kinda right," Hoseok shrugged. "You sound so much like Yoongi right now."

"I’m right because I sound like Yoongi?" Jimin snickered. "Please, do _not_ tell him that. His ego’s big enough as it is, I don’t need him making fun of me for sounding like him and I definitely don’t need him thinking he’s always right."

His tone was so lighthearted and full of laughter and his face was as bright as it’d been all day. This was how he got— this was Jimin’s face when Yoongi’s name was spoken.

"I won’t, but, like… have you ever noticed that he kinda is?"

"Kinda is what?" Jimin raised his brow, shrugging off another bite of food into his mouth.

"Right. Like, he’s almost always right. He’s really so incredibly smart. I’d even go as far as to say he’s almost as smart as Namjoon. And, yeah, he’s ad his moments where he’s been a complete fucking ass, especially to you, but in a way he had his reasons."

Jimin’s face faltered a little, chewing as he listened.

"I mean, I’m not saying he was right to be mean to you or anything," Hoseok corrected. "I’m not saying that at all. But when you think about it, you’re very different from Chanyeol or Baekhyun. Not that they’re the same as him, but you’re even more different from him than they are. And I mean this in the kindest way, but you can be very persistent and annoying, and he was overwhelmed by all of that. I’m not saying his reason was right, but he had a reason."

"I suppose," Jimin shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he processed Hoseok’s words.

"I just, if you think about it, he’s not _always_ right, but he almost always is. And he has a funny way of showing he cares, but he does care. And it’s not like he’s actually cold-hearted or anything, that’s just a defense mechanism. Have you ever looked at the two of you in a mirror? How he touches you, how you touch him. Hell, you two are so fucking _responsive_ to each other’s touch. If you two sat there even just touching each other’s hair and bodies, I don’t know who’d have an orgasm first from that touch alone."

" _Hyung_! That’s so— _Disgusting._ What the fuck?"

"I’m just trying to get my point across. And like, yeah. _Everyone_ knows what you two say. You _aren’t_ in love, but sometimes I worry that your bodies haven’t gotten the message. The two of you are just so extremely touchy."

"So the summary of today is that you’re jealous of Taehyung and Jeongguk, you had a complicated relationship in the past, you have a complicated relationship in the present, Yoongi is always right, Yoongi always has his reasons, and Yoongi and I can have orgasms just by touching each other’s arms."

"Exactly!" Hoseok exclaimed. "Wow, at least I’m on the same page with _someone_ in my life."

"I still think you’re disgusting," Jimin declared.

 

* * *

 

"Your place is… _clean_ ," Jimin awed, not even waiting for Yoongi to step out of the way as he pushed past the elder boy and into his house.

"You sound surprised," Yoongi chuckled, grinning as Jimin’s hand clasped around the sleeve of his sweater. He let the younger boy drag him into his own home, only resisting the pull long enough to make sure the door was closed.

Jimin only held onto him tighter, dragging Yoongi around as he conducted his own tour of the house, not even stopping for a second to ask for any permissions or assistance from Yoongi. In all honesty, the apartment wasn’t _that_ clean. There were a few spots that were cluttered with envelopes or magazines, and his bed was unmade with a few pieces of clothing thrown lazily on the floor, but it wasn’t what Jimin had been expecting at all.

"Well, your studio room is a fucking mess," Jimin explained, throwing a look over his shoulder to look at the older boy before he added a quick comment. "No offense."

Yoongi held hands up in a surrender, knowing there wasn’t much room to argue with the boy. Jimin finally let go of him, and Yoongi took it upon himself to slip an arm around Jimin’s waist and direct him into the small living room by the apartment’s entrance.

The layout of the apartment was very simple. The front door was practically tucked into the corner, opening up to a wide open room that took up most of the apartment. To the left was a dark gray couch pressed up against the wall, with a black wooden table set up in front of it. On the table sat a small collection of envelopes piled on top of a couple books, and towards the center sat a cup of what Jimin knew to be a cup of coffee, probably with more than the doctor-recommended limit of espresso shots mixed inside.

The walls were a soft blue color— _almost_ taking on a minty tone, like a picture Baekhyun had once shown him of Yoongi’s hair back in the day. The kitchen table was an off-shade of black, so close to the color of the coffee table that it’d probably bother a professional with the fact that it was so close, yet so far away from matching. Neither of the three chairs around the table matched. He’d probably gotten them at separate garage sales or picked them up on the side of the street. Jimin wondered if the boy had even bothered trying to get a fourth chair to fill each side, but either way, there wasn’t one.

The fridge and other kitchen appliances all looked somewhat old. _Decent_ , but old— the only exception being the coffee machine that sat on top of the counter, just to the right of the fridge. The counters and furniture all held some form of black or gray, the occasional dark tones of another color popping up, but the walls were all the same light color, the light from the wide open windows reflecting off of them to bring some more life to the place. It was so different from what he’d expected, but so _Yoongi_ of him— _to fill the place with dark things, only to have the light still shine brightly off of everything good._

There were two doors off to the side of the kitchen, both open— one leading into the bedroom and the other into the full bathroom that was surprisingly very organized. And the bedroom, which consisted of pretty much completely the large bed, had nothing but the dresser and the scattered clothes about.

"You have so many different levels to you, it’s crazy," Jimin finally spoke.

 _"But like, in a good way. You have the best of like, so many different people in you, but I like it because someone you make it so like, you’re not all these other people. You’re not everyone else. You’re one person."_ That’s what he had wanted to add on, but he didn’t.

"Yeah, well. _You’re_ one to talk," Yoongi scoffed, dragging the younger boy down onto the couch, tucking him against his side. He didn’t really take offense to it. He didn’t hear Jimin’s unspoken thoughts, but he didn’t need to know them to know Jimin meant something beyond good about it. The pair was well acquainted with each other by now.

"I can’t believe in all this time I’ve never seen your place." It was true. In the well-past _year_ that they’ve known each other, Jimin had never once stepped foot in Yoongi’s apartment. It wasn’t that he wasn’t invited, well, _he wasn’t_ , but Yoongi just never seemed to be there, and Jimin always spent his time where Yoongi was. And now here he was, maybe a minute and a half into being in Yoongi’s place for the first time, and Yoongi was nearly laying on top of him, prohibiting him from really doing anything else.

"I can’t believe that I’ve actually been in here long enough to need to invite someone over," Yoongi countered, letting go of Jimin to slide down the couch, maneuvering himself into a comfortable position laying down, his head falling into Jimin’s lap. The younger boy looked down at him with warm eyes, but something about Yoongi was warmer. "We should order some food or something to eat. Does that sound good?"

"What would we eat besides food? This is starting to sound more like a sleepover than just hanging out, and a weird one at that," Jimin laughed, his fingers itching to reach out and stroke through the older boy’s hair. It was dyed a different color than the last time he’d done it, the previous light blue swapped out for a muted brown, and Jimin wondered if _that_ was what was warmer about the boy.

"I mean, if you want to sleep here you’re free to, just know that I probably won’t bother sleeping here. This is the first Sunday I’ve taken off in so long. I’ve been out of my shop since lunchtime yesterday. I think I may actually explode if I don’t sleep there tonight."

"Oh, Hyung," Jimin sighed. "When will you ever start taking acting classes? I honestly believe you have a gift for the art of dramatics."

"Lucky for you, I start tomorrow," Yoongi quipped, his face turning up to look at the younger boy. "Do the thing with my hair, I need to relax."

"No, you didn’t say _please_."

"You’re so rude, Jimin-ah!" Yoongi whined, kicking his foot out to strike the arm of the couch in protest. "No wonder you don’t ever get laid. You can’t even do nice things like playing with your best friend’s hair. It’s probably a pain to get you to put your mouth on some dude’s—"

" _Hyung,_ " Jimin groaned— _pleaded_. "Let’s not talk about my sex life again. It’s embarrassing enough as it is. Everyone’s moving in together, or being married, or having _sex_. Everyone except me."

 

* * *

 

"When was the last time you had sex?" Yoongi asked, pizza boxes and empty soda cans already littering the coffee table. Neither of them had bothered to relocate to the kitchen table when the food arrived, too comforted by the cushions of the couch.

"I honestly can’t remember the last time I _kissed_ someone, Hyung," he shrugged. "I mean, I know what Hoseok and Taehyung say about how… _active_ I used to be, but that was honestly when I was just dating around a lot. I don’t tend to do random hookups, and with my dance career finally picking up I don’t really have time to do much dating these days either."

"So what are we talking? A couple weeks? A few months?"

"Try a few _years,_ Hyung," Jimin groaned, wishing he could bury himself in the mess of Yoongi’s shop, but the apartment was too clean. There wasn’t even a blanket on the couch for Jimin to disappear under, or at least hide himself with.

"When have you _ever_ known me to be gullible?" Yoongi replied, rolling his eyes as he took the first bite of his third slice of pizza.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Jimin asked, frowning down at the slice still in his hand. He’d barely started on his second. In retrospect, they probably ordered way too much than the two of them would be able to eat, but neither of them seemed to care, settling for conversation more than stuffing their mouths with more pizza than their stomachs would be able to take.

"You honestly expect me to believe it’s been years since you’ve properly got laid?"

"Well, _yeah_. Maybe two since I’ve been kissed, maybe a little less. But as for actually getting laid, you’re probably pushing three years."

"That’s ridiculous. Are you like, _bad_ at sex?"

" _No!_ " Jimin defended, an angry blush spilling over the tops of his cheeks. "I told you, I’m just _busy_."

"But even kissing? I mean, I’m probably biased because of your thighs and all, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re literally _gorgeous_. You belong like, in a kissing booth. You’re a fantastic dancer and all, but I wholeheartedly believe that if you invested in a job at a kissing booth, _that’s_ where you’d make all the money you could possibly ever need."

Jimin’s face was a furious shade of red, and his neck was working double time to match the dark red.

"Hyung, that’s nice and all, but that still doesn’t change things for me."

"Do you want to be kissed? Are you just not into kissing?"

"No, no. I _am—_ into kissing _,_ I mean. I’d very much like to be kissed, that’s not the issue at all," Jimin set his pizza down, unable to will himself to eat another bite with how much his face was starting to ache. Chewing would just be a difficult task at this point.

"Okay, well, _look_. That’s a problem we can solve, then. It’s not you hating being kissed, it’s just you lacking a second person. This is doable, this is something I can work with."

"Since when are you interested in matchmaking?" Jimin groaned, pulling his legs up on the couch, his knees pulling up towards his chest.

"Well, I mean… If you honestly want me to set you up with someone I could probably work on that," Yoongi’s voice was off, careful almost afraid as if that weren’t a subject he honestly wanted to approach. "I mean, I don’t really know anyone I feel would be good for you, but I’m sure Baekhyun and Chanyeol might know someone. I could probably even ask Hoseok or someone, but that wasn’t really what I was talking about."

"Oh? What did you mean, then?"

Yoongi looked down at his pizza, his eyes doing the thing that they did when he disappeared within himself again— _thinking_. Oh, how Jimin wished he could follow Yoongi inside. He wanted to hear each thought as it crossed the boy’s mind, see each image that flooded his mind as he dreamed.

"Yoongi?" Jimin asked, a little worried with how quickly the passing seconds were stacking up between them. "Are you alright?"

Yoongi finally looked up at him, copying Jimin’s earlier action of setting the pizza down. He set his can of soda down as well, placing it next to the half-filled coffee mug that was most definitely cold by now. He’d probably throw it in the microwave later and swallow down the overly-bitter taste.

"I want to try something, if you’ll let me," Yoongi spoke, turning his body sideways to look at Jimin. He propped up his right arm, tucking his right leg beneath him as he looked at the boy. "You can tell me to fuck off if you want. I won’t be offended."

"Try what?" he cautioned, his knees loosely dropping from his chest as he lifted his body up a bit, moving his body to mirror Yoongi’s sitting in front of his. He waited patiently, hoping for any sign or passage into Yoongi’s mind, but nothing came. Not then, anyway.

Yoongi let far too many moments pass in silence, and Jimin fell silent— _unmoving_ as he waited for something, _anything_ from the older boy. And then something came. Wondering fingers lifting up to Jimin’s face, a curious thumb stroking over Jimin’s face. Jimin had never been so thankful that his face was already full of blush. Had he not been already, he’d surely be by now. He did nothing but wait for more. He was _unable_ to do anything but wait for more.

Then there was more. Yoongi was looking so purposefully at his eyes. He was doing more than just trying to look deeper inside Jimin. He was trying to find something in the reflection of them as well, something that was hidden within Yoongi. He was probably testing the waters, weighing how much he wanted this versus the possibility of Jimin welcoming it— _Jimin wanting it_.

Suddenly the boy was leaning in. Each passing second was another passing inch dissolving from between them. Yoongi’s hand on his face was pulling him forward, drawing him in closer and it took half the distance for either of them to realize that Jimin had been leaning in on his own. Jimin had been closing in on more distance than Yoongi.

Yoongi’s hand slipped from his cheek, moving further back so that his fingers were reaching into Jimin’s hair, slotting between the strands as if gripping onto them had some deeper meaning, something extending on grabbing onto his hair— something equating to grasping on for air, grasping onto _safety_.

Yoongi finally closed all space between them, his hand cupping at the base of Jimin’s neck, tilting his head to a slight angle towards his right. Each little movement felt like minutes of buildup, when in reality probably less than thirty seconds had passed since Yoongi set his soda down. _And then it happened_.

Yoongi’s lips were on his. They were soft, _tender_. Jimin instantly reacted, allowing himself to press his lips back against the older boy’s. _Responsive_. Hoseok had said it earlier, but hoseok was the last thing on his mind as Yoongi’s grip tightened at the hairs sticking out at the bottom of his hairline. Something in Jimin’s chest lifted up, and only then did Jimin realize he’d been holding his breath.

The kiss grew at a steady pace, Jimin slowly building up the courage to slip his arm around the back of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi could feel the moment when Jimin finally threw himself into it. Not physically, but internally. And Yoongi willed himself to pull his hand from Jimin’s hair, letting his hand slide down the boy’s chest to grip at Jimin’s side.

They melted into each other, Jimin bending his neck down to keep his lips latched onto Yoongi’s as he raised his body up, raising his leg over Yoongi’s lap. The elder’s hands helped guide him, drawing him into his lap. Yoongi’s hands. They were big, veiny. Jimin knew this, and he’d had the boy’s hands on him before, but not like this. It was a new, bruising feeling that left Jimin wanting more, but at the same time, Jimin couldn’t remember a time where Yoongi’s hands weren’t on him like this. He couldn’t remember a time Yoongi’s _lips_ weren’t on him like this.

Yoongi’s lips parted under his, and Jimin groaned into his mouth as he slipped his tongue past the open barrier. His hands grabbed onto Yoongi tighter, his hips pressing flush against him. Yoongi didn’t put up a fight, readily allowing Jimin the opportunity to take over— to pin him down against the back of the couch.

" _Jimin-ah_ ," Yoongi breathed beneath his lips, gasping the name out. He didn’t stop to breathe more, however. He wanted Jimin’s lips against his more than he wanted air in his lungs.

The kiss quickly became desperate, a clash of lips and tongues with the occasional clacking of teeth together. Yoongi’s fingers dug into Jimin’s hips, Jimin’s doing the same to Yoongi’s shoulders as he kept older boy trapped beneath him, trapped beneath his lips and his hips and his hands. Yoongi tasted like greasy pizza and overly-sweetened soda, but Jimin didn’t care. He probably tasted similar.

Then it was over, forehead pressed to forehead, fingers loosening on each other. Neither could remember who pulled away first. They just sat there, breathing, before Yoongi’s hands pushed at Jimin’s hips and Jimin sat up straight, looking down at him.

"There," Yoongi finally sighed, his breath still heavy and his face just as flushed as Jimin’s. "Now it’s been about a _minute_ since you’ve been kissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 100% not for your satisfaction, but 150% for me setting up the next few chapters. enjoy this, but not too much.
> 
> also, as for clothes? i looked up so many different sites and for the most part it gave me three different words for clothes? "옷", "천", and "의류"
> 
> just picture me, a very confused white boy. but, "옷" seemed to be what the majority of all the sites said, and i didn't even BOTHER with google translate, because having studied french for years i know how easily that can butcher what you're saying, so i tend to avoid that as much as possible. anyway, so if "옷" is wrong, i apologize. i tried, but also it looks like a person so, i don't know if that's just a coincidence.... or? who knows? (not me!)


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry

Nothing happened after that. A few minutes had passed after the kiss before Jimin loosened his grip on Yoongi and a few more before he finally slid off his lap— Yoongi’s hand sliding down Jimin’s thighs as he slipped away.

The next few hours had been spent in near silence, the occasional comment or two interrupting the sound of chewing and sipping on soda, both of them taking much longer than necessary to finish their pizza and pack of drinks. Eventually, Yoongi decided he was going to head back to his shop, so Jimin helped him clean the mess.

("Do you, uhh… Do you want me to walk you home? It’s not that far out of the way," Yoongi had offered.

"No, Taehyung just texted me. I think we’re gonna go hang out with Hoseok. We’re just trying to make sure we get time together with just the three of us since we don’t live together anymore."

"Oh yeah, that’s a good idea. I know Hoseok’s happy for them and all, but I kinda get the vibe that he’s been taking the move pretty hard.")

 _Hoseok_. Right, he and Yoongi hung out a lot these days.

Yoongi threw a thick jacket on, shoving his hand into his pocket as he held the door open for Jimin. Yoongi had offered to lend him a jacket, but Jimin had rejected that offer as well— _"It’s not that cold yet, Hyung."_

And it wasn’t. Autumn was beginning and with that came chilly winds, but for the most part, it wasn’t unbearable yet. Yoongi just had a dramatic streak that he insisted on bringing into as many aspects of his life as possible. And even then, Jimin still felt the burning sting from Yoongi’s lips and hands on his body. He could still feel the warmth from that. He didn’t need a jacket.

Then they went their separate ways. Jimin turned left once they got out of the apartment buildings, and Yoongi turned right, each of them fighting hard not to turn to look back at the other. But then Yoongi did, and when he was met with the back of Jimin’s head he looked back ahead.

And then Jimin turned to look at Yoongi.

 

* * *

 

"Are you kidding me?" Taehyung groaned, slamming his phone down against the table.

Jimin raised his eyebrow as he shifted in his seat, trying to think about anything other than Yoongi— trying to focus on Taehyung. _Ask him what’s wrong, Jimin. That’s a thing you would do._

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?"

"Hoseok’s not coming," the younger boy explained, pressing the palms of his hands up against his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he dropped his elbows to rest on the table. "He says he’s hanging out with his, uh, _friend_."

"Well that’s a shame," Jimin frowned. "I know you were really looking forward to this."

"I _was_!" Taehyung exclaimed. "And I thought he was, _too_. He made such a big deal about how he wanted me to stay and how we all belonged in the same house, under the same roof. And _now_ , as soon as I actually move out it’s like he wants nothing to do with me. He’s always hanging out with that stupid fucking friend of his. I didn’t realize sex was more important than me, especially since he throws such tantrums over how he should be more important than me and Jeongguk’s relationship."

"Hey," Jimin reached out, offering his hand out to the younger boy. Taehyung took it, instantly gripping on with a tight squeeze. "I don’t think that’s what it is at all, alright? You’re more important than sex. Anyone of our friends is more important than sex. Hell, even if Baekhyun and Chanyeol were about to go for a throw in the sheets _right now_ and we called them and said that you’d need them, I believe they’d show up— and they’re _married_."

"Then why does Hoseok always pick him over me?" he sighed, a heavy wave of sadness cracking through his voice.

"I think he has feelings for this person," Jimin shrugged. "I mean, I honestly don’t know _much_ about their relationship, but we’ve talked about it a little bit. It’s just really complicated, it sounds like. I think he wants more from it and the other person just either doesn’t want more, or doesn’t realize that Hoseok wants more. Maybe both? I really hope that’s not the case. Hoseok deserves to be happy."

"Yeah," Taehyung agreed, his eyes lightening a bit, easing up on their heated gaze and the muscles in his back loosening up as he tried to relax more. "Especially after things went to shit with him and Yoongi. He’s taken forever trying to get over that."

"Wait, _what_?"

"He’s always had a hard time getting over Yoongi? I thought you knew that."

"What do you mean _getting over_ Yoongi? I would have known if Yoongi’s dated anyone recently— _especially_ if it was Hoseok," Jimin countered. The muscles in his stomach locked together, and the breath of air Jimin tried to swallow seemed to get lodged in his throat. What was Taehyung saying?

"Recently? Oh _God_ , no. Not recently. They’re just friends, Hyung. Don’t worry about that, really. You’re still the most important thing in Yoongi’s life."

"That’s not what I meant," Jimin hissed. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at Jimin’s tone, pulling his hand back from Jimin’s.

"You don’t gotta be a dick to me just because _you_ didn’t know Hoseok dated your boyfriend, Hyung. That’s your own damn fault— or _Yoongi’s_ or _Hoseok’s_. Not _mine_."

"He’s not my—"

"Not your boyfriend. We _know_. Frankly, it isn’t entirely my business or anyone else’s business, but you two act like it. How you look at each other, _touch_ each other. The whole thing between you two where you pretend to ignore your feelings and your chemistry is getting really fucking old. It’s been like, a _year_. When is it going to end?"

"You’re right, it’s _not_ your business," Jimin declared, his hands forming into fists that he held down against the table. "It’s not anyone’s business. And honestly, what we do with us is _up_ to us. If we want to just be friends, that’s our decision. If we want to fuck and date and get married, that’s _our_ decision."

Their eyes never left each other, and their faces never lightened for even a fraction of a second.

"I’m tired of all of you treating Yoongi and me like some game of yours. I know you make bets and shit on us— we _both_ know you do it. We aren’t a game, we’re _people_. We’re not odds you can discuss or tragedies you can make fun of. For all you know we could have already discussed being together and decided against it."

"Did you?" Taehyung tested, his voice smooth and easy as he called on Jimin’s bluff.

"Did I what?"

"Did you discuss it with Yoongi? Did the two of you sit down and have a night long conversation about how you _don’t_ have feelings for each other? Did you both decide you aren’t in love with the other?"

Jimin didn’t say anything— _didn’t move_.

"Because let me tell you, _Hyung_. I don’t even believe that for a second. Neither of you would have the fucking balls to do it, too caught up in what everyone else thinks about it, about the two of you. And honestly, I think you’re both too caught up in the fear of being _rejected_. If you had discussed it and you had decided against it, you wouldn’t have that fucking look on your face right now."

"And also," Taehyung continued. "If you _had_ discussed it, you wouldn’t be acting like small children that blush and deny even having a _crush_ on the boy that lives down at the end of the street. You’d be together. Stop treating love like it’s some fucking playground drama or schoolyard talk. It’s not a crush, you’re not five-year-old girls. You’re grown ass men who are _in love with each other_. I’d say act like it, but you already _do_. So tell me, Hyung. _Have_ you had that talk?"

"No," Jimin’s eyes broke away from Taehyung’s, his angry fists turning to palms pressed flat against the table, his voice small and insecure— _defeated_. Jimin was defeated.

"So are we done playing _this_ game? I’m really fucking tired of it."

"He kissed me today," Jimin breathed out.

"Un-fucking-believable. You were literally here _fighting_ me over this when you were kissing him earlier _today_? I honestly could strangle you right now. I _want_ to strangle you right now. You’re lucky I actually love you behind all this anger."

"But, Tae," Jimin sighed. "I know this is going to annoy you to hear, but I _really_ don’t think it’s like that. I… _he_ only did it because we were talking about how I hadn’t been kissed in so long, and I think he was just trying to be nice. Plus, I know he’s sleeping with people."

"Yoongi? Sleeping with people?" Taehyung snorted. "I mean, he’s very attractive and all and I’m not saying there isn’t a sex appeal, because there most certainly is, but he doesn’t strike me as the time to go around just having meaningless sex. I could be wrong, I don’t know him as well as you and Baekhyun, or even Chanyeol and Hoseok, but I honestly have a really hard time accepting the fact that he’s genuinely with someone. Especially multiple someones."

"Well, maybe not _multiple_ people," Jimin shrugged. "But I overheard Chanyeol once talking to Baekhyun about how he was mad at Yoongi for fucking someone. I didn’t, like, stick around to hear more, but I definitely heard him say that Yoongi was fucking someone, and Chanyeol was seriously mad about it."

"Maybe he’s sleeping with Baekhyun," Taehyung grinned, obviously joking, but Jimin still frowned. "Hyung, I’m joking. And even if Yoongi is sleeping with someone, I seriously doubt that it _is_ anything serious, even if I don’t believe he’s the type to do that. It’s just, you should see the way he looks at you. I’m not even here talking about how you two look at _each_ _other_ , because that’s a whole different story, but when you’re not looking? It’s like you’re the fucking sun and he doesn’t even _care_ that he’ll go blind if he keeps looking at you."

Jimin just breathed in again, shaking his head as he looked down at the table. It wasn’t that he didn’t want these things to be true. Hell, it wasn’t even that he _did_ want them to be true. Jimin was so out of touch with both himself and everyone and everything around him. Especially as of late, especially as Yoongi’s lips had finally met his, he’d stopped falling in this endless turmoil. Everything was at a standstill and part of Jimin wanted to start falling again, but he was stuck in this void— and solving the puzzle was the only way out.

"I just feel if something were to happen between us it would have already happened by now. And like, that’s not me saying I’d been wishing for something this whole time, but when you look at the facts it’s been over a year. Don’t you think he would have known by now— or even _me_? Don’t you think we’d have gone or a date or have ki—"

"Kissed?" Taehyung finished, his palm opening up to wave at him, gesturing in a frantic ' _Hello?!’_ kind of wave. "Yeah, you did that _today_. Let’s go back to that, by the way. I want to know all the details."

"It wasn’t— I just, _he_ just… He was telling me that he couldn’t believe I hadn’t been kissed in so long, or that I hadn’t fucked anyone in a while. He said something about how my thighs were nice, or how he liked them. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but you know. It was basically stuff he casually says about my thighs in other situations."

"And then?" Taehyung urged, relaxing back in his chair as the tension of their dispute finally dissolved completely with the warmth of Jimin’s recollection with Yoongi was bringing on. "Did he just lean in and do it?"

"No, well… So, then he said something about how I was pretty— no, _gorgeous_ , and that I belonged in a kissing booth and that I could make a living off of doing that."

"You two are disgusting," Taehyung grunted, a smile creeping over his face again.

"Look, you asked for the _story_ , but I never asked for your commentary," Jimin puffed.

"You sound so fucking much like him. Shit, did I just never notice that, or is that an after effect of him having his tongue shoved down your throat?"

"Actually," Jimin countered. "It was kinda more like the other way around."

" _Park Jimin!_ " Taehyung exclaimed, earning a few side glances from the tables around them. Both of the boys noticed and leaned in closer, their voices lowering as to not draw any more attention there way. "So you kissed him?"

"I kissed him _back_ ," Jimin explained. "After the kissing booth thing, he asked if it was that I didn’t _want_ to kiss anyone, or if it was just that I didn’t have anyone to kiss. So, I told him that it was just hard for me to find time to date anyone with my career and stuff."

"Which is a bullshit excuse because you’ve practically been dating him for a year. You spend more time with him than you do in a studio," Taehyung slid in.

" _Technically_ , I do spend a lot of time in a studio. It just happens to be his studio in his shop and not at the dance studio down the street," Jimin rolled his eyes, continuing on before Taehyung could cut in. " _Anyway_ , I told him it was hard to do with my career, but also that I don’t really do one night stands. I mean, you know me. I’m not really a saint or anything when it comes to my dating history and _especially_ not my sexual history, but you know I like to at least know the person a little bit before I do anything with them."

"Right, right," Taehyung agreed. "You’ve always been like that."

"Well, _then_ ," he went on. "Then he said that since it was just a matter of finding someone, he said it was something he could 'work with'. And I wasn’t really getting what he was saying, so I made a comment about him being a matchmaker and all."

" _You’re so_ —" he started, but Jimin gave him a heated look and Taehyung quickly shut his mouth, waiting patiently for him to begin again.

" _Then,_ he said that setting me up with someone wasn’t entirely what he had meant, but that if I really wanted to be hooked up he’d look into it, maybe even talk to Chanyeol or Hoseok to see if either of them had connections."

"Okay, you can’t keep me from saying this. You’re _both_ stupid— so stupid, and so _blind_. It physically hurts me to even just know this happened, and to have to listen to it and try and picture it all in my head… I’m definitely wounded. You’re both paying for my therapy."

"Fine, I won’t finish the story," Jimin warned, shifting back in his seat to tilt his body against the back of the chair, the wood digging uncomfortably into his shoulders. He couldn’t help but think of how good Yoongi’s hands had felt on his thighs and hips, and he wondered what kind of wonders they’d be able to do to fix the locked up muscles held captive in his shoulders.

"I will kill you if you don’t," Taehyung narrowed, his eyebrows knitting in closer together.

"Fine, _fine_ ," Jimin caved, leaning back away from the chair, his forearms moving forward to rest against the table. It wasn’t any more comfortable than the chair. He really wanted Yoongi’s hands on him. "Then he said he wanted to try something, and that I was more than welcome to tell him to fuck off. I asked him what he wanted to try and then he was just— _quiet_ , you know? And I waited, and then he just _kissed_ me, I guess."

"And was it good?"

" _Yes,_ " Jimin confirmed. "As good as I thought it’d be."

"So you _had_ thought about it?" Taehyung teased.

" _No_ — stop that! Anyway, that was pretty much it."

"There’s more to it than that," Taehyung shook his head. "You said you had your _tongue_ down his _throat_."

"Oh, that…" Jimin trailed off.

"Yeah, _that_ ," the younger boy grunted. "You forgot to explain that part, Hyung."

"I don’t know," Jimin flushed. "I kinda just, got in his lap and then I like, pinned him down."

"Way to go, Hyung! You still got it in you, way to go. I was worried that by the time you _did_ start having sex again, you would have forgotten how to use your d—"

"Okay, that’s enough of that," Jimin shook his head. "Why does all of this have to be about sex? Isn’t being in love about more than that?"

"Yes, of course," Taehyung nodded. "I’m just teasing, Hyung. In the reality of things, though, I do think you and Yoongi could be really together. In fact, everyone pretty much thinks you could be great together. You just have to actually start opening up to him. And he needs to open up to you, too, but you really need to have a discussion about what feelings are there and how you two want to go about them."

"But what if we actually both consider our feelings and we have an intelligent conversation about it, and we decide that our feelings actually _aren’t_ there, or aren’t on the same page? What if we decide not to pursue a relationship?"

"Then that will have been a mature conversation, hopefully. And if you do come to that decision, I completely believe that it won’t be for a lack of feelings. I’d say I wish for a love like you have, but I have Jeongguk. And yeah, it’s not the same love, but he’s my love and I wouldn’t wish for anything different."

"That’s absolutely revolting," Jimin replied, twisting his face up in faux horror. "I can’t be friends with either of _you_ anymore. In fact, consider us even on the therapy thing because now _I’m_ going to be needing to go."

"Maybe we could get a two-for-one deal, yeah?" Taehyung teased.

"We deserve it," Jimin laughed.

"Hyung?" Taehyung asked, a few moments after the silence started to fill their space again.

"Yeah?"

"I really think you should talk to him. I don’t think it will end badly at all; I honestly think this will end up for the better. And, like, I mean _better_. I think you two could be something really big. And even if it doesn’t roll that way, I think you could both learn a lot from this and maybe even strengthen the friendship between you two."

"I think I will," Jimin sighed. "I think you’re right. It would be good to nail out how we really feel and where things are going between us."

"In the meantime, I wanna meet the person Hoseok’s been hooking up with. I really had no idea things were anything beyond shallow between them. Are you sure there’s anything more?"

 

* * *

 

Yoongi kept his hands shoved tightly in the pockets of his coat and his shoulders hunched over the entire walk to his shop. Thoughts swirled over and over in his head— _thoughts of Jimin_. Not even the cold wind was on his mind as he made his way down the long route, avoiding the short walk between his apartment complex and this shop that he usually took.

He could still feel Jimin’s skin on his fingers, the smooth stretch of skin extending from the corner of the younger boy’s lip and up to corner of his eye. His nose still burnt of the scent of pizza, overly-sweetened soda, and _Jimin_. Even his body buzzed and the missing weight of Jimin on top of him, and his lips pulsed with the bruising feeling of Jimin’s mashed against them. 

His whole body roared— _ached_ for Jimin. _Jimin, Jimin, Jimin._ He was so deep into thought, so frustratedly _consumed_ with the flood of thoughts piling into the front and center of his attention. He was so deep, _so far_ , that he hadn’t even registered the body crashing into him as he approached the door, and he probably still wouldn’t have even noticed except for the voice calling his name. He felt hands grabbing at his shoulders, holding him where he stood.

" _Hyung_ ," the voice called again. "Hello? Are you okay?"

The hands grabbed on tighter, and an all too familiar scent filled his nose. It shot through him, waking him from his trance. He looked up as everything came into focus, a heavy breath of air releasing from his lungs. _Right, breathing_. He hadn’t even noticed how badly his lungs had been burning and begging for air.

Yoongi stood in the younger boy’s grip, locking eyes with him before finally breathing out his name, " _Hoseok._ "

"Yeah, Hyung. Are you okay? Shit, you look like you not only saw a ghost, but like that ghost slaughtered your whole family in front of you. Do you even know where you are?"

"I’m on my way to my store," Yoongi confirmed. "I was gonna sleep there tonight."

"Hyung, we’re standing in front of my _house_ ," Hoseok breathed out, an obvious edge of concern to his voice. "Did something happen? Do you need coffee?"

 _Coffee_. That usually sounded nice, but the taste of Jimin was still on his lips, and he needed to get it off, needed to get the boy out of his mind. Coffee wouldn’t do the trick.

"Can I come inside?" Yoongi asked, his plea so full of such an unreadable emotion that didn’t really leave the request up to consideration. Hoseok had seen Yoongi vulnerable before, even in a similar manner to this, but it had been so long since he’d actually seen it. It was like sinking back into the past, but somehow different altogether at the same time.

"Actually I was already on the way to…" Hoseok’s voice trailed off, looking around them, the sun already setting in the distance.

"You know what? Let’s go inside," Hoseok accepted, nodding his head back towards the house. They really were in front of his house, both males standing at the start of the walkway that lead to the front door. Hoseok stared to walk back, but quickly noticed that the older boy wasn’t following behind. He stepped back up to him, slipping his left hand to the small of the older boy’s back. He gave him a slight push, starting him down along the path.

Hoseok dropped his hand as he worked his key into the door, holding the handle still as he twisted his key in it, stepping aside as he held the door open for Yoongi to step inside. It took a few more seconds, but eventually, Yoongi willed his legs to work.

Hoseok looked around, checking the sidewalks passing by their house for other people around them before he finally followed Yoongi inside. He didn’t bother locking the door, only focusing on grabbing Yoongi’s hand and drawing him into the living room around the corner. He dragged Yoongi to the couch, making slow movements to sit down beside him. He wasn’t aware of how deep the claws of Yoongi’s trance were digging into him.

The room was barely lit at this point. It was practically dark, only a few shreds of light shining between the thin lines of the blinds covering the windows. Neither of them seemed to mind or care, but in all honesty, they _didn’t_. There was no reason to. They knew each other, both in the light and the dark. The positioning of the sun and a few blinds wouldn’t change a single thing. And part of each of them appreciated that— appreciated that in this situation Yoongi wouldn’t have to worry about his face, and also the reverse, that Hoseok wouldn’t have to worry about looking him in the eye.

They were never good at that part, facing the facts as they were. They always stepped around them, hoping for anything but the action of being backed into a corner, backed up to explain and bare vulnerability— to show weakness.

Hoseok watched him with a careful eye as he pulled out his phone, shooting Taehyung a quick text. He was already pretty late to get out of the house. He should’ve already been at the restaurant by now.

_Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up._

Immediately bubbles started popping up, Taehyung already typing out a reply. Hoseok avoided the urge to bite down on his lip, knowing that Taehyung probably was going to be upset with him.

_Are you with that person?_

Hoseok didn’t have it in with him to argue, too focused on how he needed to be tending to the boy in front of him. Instead of trying to explain, trying to soothe what he knew to be the beginning of pissing off Taehyung, he typed back one word.

 _Yes_.

This, they both knew, was not the time for old habits. It was true, old habits die hard, but this was a habit that desperately needed to die in the silence of the falling light and rising tension.

"What happened?" Hoseok finally asked, leaning back until he hit the cushion of the couch behind him. "I haven’t seen you like this in forever."

"You’ve _never_ seen me like this," Yoongi spat out. He’d swapped out the sweet, lazy flow of his voice for hateful venom.

"Hyung, that’s not true. You know—"

" _No,_ " Yoongi interrupted, the same sharp tone there. "I’ve never felt this before. You can’t have seen me like this, it’s different. You can’t have seen me like this, I’ve never felt like this."

Hoseok breathed in heavily, sinking further into the couch. He didn’t know how to process what was unraveling right in front of him, and he very much wanted to camouflage into his surroundings. He wanted to disappear.

"Hyung… _Yoongi_. I know we aren’t what we used to be, but you can still tell me things. I know you’re not angry with me, you’re angry with something else. You can tell me, you don’t have to attack me."

"We aren’t what we _used_ to be? You say that like it actually means something, Hoseok," Yoongi pressed. Hoseok flinched. Somewhere inside, so did Yoongi. "We were toxic, _both_ of us. And yeah, maybe I was more so in some ways, but you can’t honestly believe our relationship is something that you should reference to actually mean anything _positive_."

"We weren’t supposed to meet again," Yoongi continued on. "I wouldn’t even call the fact that we did chance or luck. You just happened to be friends with that _fucking_ kid. If anything it was _bad_ luck."

"Is that who this is about? Jimin?" Hoseok asked, straining himself past his limits to try and push Yoongi’s words aside. He knew Yoongi got emotional when he was upset— _malicious_ , even. It did more damage to push back.

Yoongi looked like a broken doll, but Hoseok knew far better than to actually run with that thought. Not only would the idea offend Yoongi, but Hoseok knew it was _far_ from the truth. Yoongi was too strong. He was emotional, maybe. Perhaps even to a fault, but he was not broken, and he most definitely was not fragile.

"Do you have feelings for him?"

 _No answer_.

"It’s okay to feel, you know? And it’s okay to talk. I know you’re going to be mean anyway, I’m _prepared_ for you to be mean, but I’m here to help. If what you need is to be an asshole, go ahead. I’m here to give you what you need."

_No answer._

"If it’s feelings you have for him, you’re going to have to fucking _act_ like you can feel in the first place, Hyung. Jimin isn’t me. He didn’t hurt you like we hurt each other. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like shit just because you can’t find it in you to treat him right. And you know what? I don’t think I care if you have feelings for him. Even if you’re still my friend, if you can’t treat him right, then I definitely don’t think you deserve him."

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Hoseok. Just because I don’t wanna tell you every single thought that pops in my head about _Jimin_ to my fucking _ex-boyfriend_ who I just so happen to be fucking on the side, doesn’t mean I don’t feel things. And for the record, I never said I deserve Jimin. Boy, do I fucking _want_ him, but that’s not going to happen. I know it better than you, so if you’re really fucking here to help, you’ll shut your damn mouth about it and do something that’s actually productive."

Hoseok was filled with hate. Hatred and anger, enough passion to match the fire fuming inside of Yoongi. And so he did the most illogical thing he could think to do.

He kissed Yoongi.

All Yoongi could do was compare. Hoseok’s hands were rougher, his touch more twisted than Jimin’s. He didn’t have good intentions, and even his lips tasted like they didn’t belong. But still they both continued on, Hoseok thinking about how much he wanted to strangle Yoongi, and Yoongi thinking _Jimin_ the entire time. And even as Hoseok finally dragged him into his bedroom, they went on.

Even as a body eventually entered the room and crossed the hall, even as the same body laid in the bed in the center of that room and buried into the sheets, they didn’t pull apart. In their defense, neither of them had ever heard the front door opening and Jimin walking in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST TO CLARIFY A COUPLE THINGS...
> 
> 1\. mari thought i was making namjoon and seokjin a couple in this, and i just wanna clarify that they are not dating. they just live together.  
> 2\. yoongi and hoseok aren't dating either. they dated before yoongi even knew who jimin was, and the fact that hoseok was now roommates with jimin now is purely a coincidence. yoongi is also not dating jimin, so there is no cheating going on here. yoongi and hoseok are just "friends" with benefits, and yoongi and jimin are technically nothing. so he's not cheating, and he just ends up accidentally looking like an ass. he didn't mean for any of this to happen.
> 
> i didn't mean to make yoongi an ass about this, he isn't here to hurt anyone. it just happens? so keep that in mind. don't hate him for this. he's just as confused as anyone and i struggled with capturing that.
> 
> also, i've got the rest of this fic planned out for the most part. from how things are looking right now, there will be 14 chapters (which is four more). if i decide what i have left needs to spread out a little more, there might be 15, but probably not. we're approaching a close, everyone!


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is later than i expected because i had a bunch of tests for college + my word count goal for every chapter is 5k and this chapter was going to be 10k because i was going to add smut between yoongi and hoseok, but i'm awkward with writing smut so i wrote everything else afterward. you'll also notice that this chapter isn't 10k and there is no smut, because my girlfriend said you could feel jimin's emotions easier without it, so here you go. if you wanted smut, blame my girlfriend.
> 
> enjoy x

Jimin couldn’t help but stare deeply into the bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. His hope was that if he looked long enough he’d find some answers or disappear forever inside. Mostly, he was hoping if he sat still long enough, he would mummify or become a statue. Any option was a good option. He just wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to be anyone but himself.

And so there he was, sitting in a baggy shirt that probably belonged to Taehyung and an old pair of gym shorts that he wasn’t even sure was clean. In all honesty, he couldn’t find it within himself to care. He was too busy thinking— _worrying_ about other things. The paranoia and grief were piling up so high, the weight of it pushing his shoulders down in a horribly unattractive hunch. As a dancer, he knew better. He knew to watch his posture, even in his day-to-day life, but even years of _"Keep your back straight!"_ could do nothing to fix how fallen he felt, both internally and physically.

Eventually, he heard the sound of a door opening, the heavy plot of shoe soles dragging and lazy grunts pillowing down from the hallway. Someone was awake other than him. Jimin knew without turning to look that it was Yoongi. Yoongi coming out of Hoseok’s room.

But still, he looked. He had to be sure, even though he was far beyond positive. He knew Yoongi’s voice and the tone of even the most simple of sounds, even if he had never heard them like he had last night through the walls and door of Hoseok’s room.

Looking was a mistake. Yoongi had stopped just behind the counter. Three thoughts were _very_ clear on Yoongi’s face.

" _What are you doing here?_ ", " _Oh…_ ", and " _Fuck_."

It kinda just passed through them both at once, through the connection that had formed a long time ago and had never eased up. Jimin wasn’t sure which one of them probably wanted that same connection to be broken now more at this moment.

It was evident that an apology was sitting on the tip of Yoongi’s tongue, but the pit in Jimin’s stomach didn’t have the strength to even consider listening to it at this time.

"I’ll see you later, Hyung," Jimin sighed. _Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me._

"We’ll talk later?" Yoongi asked. It was a whisper. There seemed to be no emotion, yet every emotion all at once. "Please."

Jimin nodded, the left corner of his mouth twitching up before it fell again. Yoongi still wouldn’t look away, so Jimin turned back to his cereal, sucking in a deep breath as he reached up to grab the spoon again. He scooped up some cereal onto, only to drop the spoon and its contents again once he heard the front door close. He looked up once more, and Yoongi was gone.

Something burned in Jimin’s mind, sending waves down the nerves throughout his body. He had spats and issues with Yoongi in the past, but this was something that he wasn’t familiar with. He tried to rack his brain as he stared into the cereal, waiting for any resemblance of an appetite to appear as he tried to recall any time he had felt something similar to this. He couldn’t think of a time, and he never got an appetite.

Still, he forced himself to sit up straight like he’d been taught, and he picked up the spoon again, making sure a full bite was on the spoon before he finally raised the spoon to his lips. He took his time chewing, hoping for a break in reality. He was expecting to wake up any moment, or have Yoongi walk in the front door with a bright smile on his face that would reassure him that last night hadn’t really happened and it was all an illusion, but the only thing that followed was a few more bites of cereal that he had to practically force down his throat. It was real. No matter how long he sat there wishing it hadn’t happened, nothing would change.

Eventually, Jimin was able to finish his cereal. He refused to let this affect anything beyond his emotions. He wouldn’t let the pain in his chest harm any other part of his body— any other parts except for his heart and his mind, that is.

He couldn’t wait anymore. He hadn’t even really known _what_ he was waiting for, but the anger building up inside him was becoming far too much, and he needed to get it out of his system. He made quick work of cleaning up his dish before he left the kitchen behind, his feet guiding him down the hall towards Hoseok’s bedroom.

Jimin couldn’t even be bothered to knock, not that he would’ve done so even if he wasn’t upset. His hand paused on the door handle for just a moment before he twisted it to the right and pushed his way into the room.

Hoseok was sprawled out on the bed, the duvet and top sheet both pushed down at the end of it. The older boy, thankfully, was at least wearing shorts, but whatever shirt he had been wearing the day before was somewhere on the floor among other articles of clothing Hoseok had let gather there over the week. Jimin couldn’t tell which one it was that Yoongi had probably seen him in last, but a hatred was not building up towards every article of clothing scattered around.

Each piece was a suspect. Either Yoongi had sat back and watched Hoseok peel his clothes off piece by piece, or Yoongi himself had taken them off himself. Jimin couldn’t help but imagine Yoongi’s long, careful fingers curling up under Hoseok’s shirt or his thumb hooking into Hoseok’s pants to yank them down. He suddenly had to fight the urge to throw up the bowl of cereal he had forced himself to eat.

It took a minute for Hoseok to finally register that Jimin was standing in the doorway, too engrossed in reading something off his phone. His back was bared to Jimin, his front half stretched comfortably on top of the messy bed.

At first, it was like Hoseok didn’t realize what was going on. He turned his head around, his shoulders twisting and muscles flexing at the bend of his neck. His face was neutral, lips a bruised shade of red with dark spots planted along the underside of his jaw. His eyes were neither soft nor angry, and there was no urgency or sorrow to his aura. He was just relaxing, lazily like he often would be after a night with anyone. But it wasn’t just anyone Hoseok had been with— it was _Yoongi_. There was another moment of nothing from Hoseok before his face finally changed, a near reflection of what was probably on Jimin’s face.

"Did you…?" Hoseok trailed off, dropping his phone to turn around, sitting up straight. There was a trail of hickeys down his torso, each one a darker shade than the one above it. If you looked close enough, and Jimin _did_ look close enough, you could see the slight discoloring on Hoseok’s hips— no doubt put there by Yoongi as well.

"I heard everything, Hyung," Jimin confirmed, his voice was surprisingly soft. There wasn’t a lot of hurt evident in his tone. It was mostly just the strain of exhaustion. Jimin hadn’t even allowed any anger to slip through. "Well, perhaps not _everything_ , but I definitely caught the last round and a good portion of the one before that. I think you’d be the better judge of how much that meant I actually listened to, but I think I can make a guess and say 'far too much', don’t you think?"

"Jimin, I… I don’t even really know what to say."

"I don’t think there is much to say," Jimin agreed, eyes sad as he leaned against the doorway. "You fucked Yoongi. Wait, it was the other way around, _right_? He fucked you."

"It’s not what it looks like," Hoseok tried, the words falling off towards the end as if there was a hint of a question to it, but there wasn’t a question. They both knew what was going on, at least the logistics of it.

"He’s your ex," Jimin shook his head. "He’s the ex you told me about, the one that you have a messy past with. And I think it’s safe to say he’s the _person_ you’ve been having the messy relationship with."

"We aren’t in a relationship, Jimin," Hoseok groaned, rolling up onto his knees to grab a shirt that was tucked underneath the blankets there. "I would have told you if we were, I swear."

"I don’t believe that for a second," Jimin breathed out. "You didn’t tell me he was the person you dated before. Never _once_ did you let me in on that. Which is funny, because apparently everyone _else_ knew."

"Yoongi didn’t tell you?" Hoseok paused, his arms halfway into the holes in his shirt. Jimin hated how Yoongi’s name sounded on Hoseok’s lips. He considered punching Hoseok just for letting the two syllables slide so easily from him after everything.

"No, _Yoongi_ didn’t tell me," Jimin narrowed his eyes, pulling away from the door and stepping further into the room. "And yes, I am irritated at him for that, but right now _you’re_ my problem. We’ve been friends for so long, we _live_ together. Hell, we’re so close that you readily fuck the boy that even _you_ insist I have feelings for."

Hoseok winced at that, taking in a deep breath as he fit his head through the hole of the shirt, still moving slowly as if he was waiting for something.

"You sure you need that?" Jimin asked, gesturing to Hoseok’s shirt when the older boy looked confused. "Are you sure you need a shirt, or should you just leave it off so when Yoongi comes back to fuck you again you’re already halfway ready. Or wait, I forgot. Sluts don’t need prep—"

"Jimin!" Hoseok’s voice boomed out. He yanked his shirt down into place, still standing up on his knees. "What the _fuck_?"

"You know, I should have pieced it together. I’m stupid for not figuring that out sooner, but _hey_ … at least I finally get to be in on something everyone else isn’t, right? Or did everyone else know what the two of you have been up to lately? Was I the last to figure out that part as well?"

"You’re such a fucking child," Hoseok spat out, rolling off the edge of the bed. "God, I don’t even want to _talk_ to you right now."

"Right, let’s blame my immaturity on the reason you don’t want to own up to what _you_ fucking did, _Hyung_ ," Jimin rolled his eyes, watching the older boy move away from the bed.

"I don’t wanna own up?" Hoseok asked. "I can own up."

"Last night," Hoseok went on. "Yoongi came here _upset—_ upset over _you_. Then he started being a fucking ass to me about it, and I told him that he didn’t even deserve you because he’s not capable of treating you right."

Hoseok walked over towards the doorway, stopping in front of Jimin. "And then, I kissed him. I kissed him just like I always do, just like I’ve always done, because you know what, Jimin? _You_ don’t deserve _him_ either. You both deny and reject each other, you both hurt each other and do things to torture the other with this fucking cheesy ass, slow-burned angst you have going on. You think you deserve someone who can never own up to their feelings for you? Do you think _you_ deserve someone you can never own up to _your_ feelings for _them_? Does anyone deserve that?

"Don’t you fucking lecture me about 'owning up' to shit when here you are, after a year after denying every drop of feelings for someone, and then getting mad because someone else didn’t do the same. No one here owed you shit, especially when you’ve been saying 'there’s _nothing_ going on between us' for a year. You don’t get to be upset when _you_ have that boy so fucked up he doesn’t even think there’s a slight _chance_ of you wanting to breathe his way.

"Yeah, he might think he doesn’t deserve you because he’s a major fucking ass, but there’s a difference between deserving and having a chance, and you’ve made it very clear that the latter never existed, and so he went to where— _who_ he knew there was something with. Sorry if you confused the fuck out of him and everyone else while I was nothing but _honest_ with him."

Hoseok started to step around Jimin to walk out of the room, but Jimin stepped to the side, blocking his path. They were only standing closer now, both boy’s heated and looking a mess from their (not so) respective actions the night before.

"You think you have some upper ground here? You think you’re better than me because you were 'honest'? Hyung, that’s a load of bullshit. You sat there with the rest of them during this year. While everyone else claimed to know what was going on between Yoongi and me, you were right there with them. _You_ insisted. _You_ pushed. You spent a year with the others making me believe that there was something between the two of us that was special, meanwhile you’ve both been here doing— _fuck_ , I don’t even want to _know_ ," Jimin’s hands shot up to his hair, his fingers quickly locking into the strands to find some sort of grip on reality, his face stricken with so many emotions that neither of them knew which to address first.

"I stopped," Hoseok mumbled, clearing his throat before he continued on with clarification. "Pushing it, I mean. Once he and I started… uh, _hooking up_ again, I stopped trying to convince you. I don’t know if you noticed. It was slow at first, but then eventually I stopped completely."

" _Wow,_ Hyung! You are _such_ a great friend. You know what, do you mind if I borrow your computer? I need to get online to get you a custom-made trophy. It’s all a really sudden notice so I don’t have the engraving quite figured out, but I think _'Thanks for stopping to tell me I had something special with a guy once you started sleeping with him. Don’t worry about not telling me he was your ex-boyfriend or anything. You stopped pushing our relationship the minute he started pushing his dick in your ass again, and that’s what really matters!'_ is a strong contender."

"Jimin! I get that you’re upset, but _again_ , you were not with him. You _are_ not with him. You spent over a year making sure that everyone knew that. While everyone sat there saying what you two have is more? While he stood there by your side and listened to it just as much as you did, _you_ were more quick to reject him than he ever has been. Face it, I—"

"You what? Had more of him? Had more history with him? Had a deeper relationship with him? You told me yourself, you two aren’t dating either. You’re really going to tell me that you saw what everyone else saw between us, and you let your libido become a deciding factor? What were you going to do if one day he and I woke up and _did_ listen to everyone?"

"You honestly think that was going to happen?" Hoseok snorted.

"Why the _fuck_ do you think I’m upset now? If he were honestly just a friend to me you think I’d be even a little bit hurt by this? If I came into this house last night to hear you two from your bedroom, with only friendship on my mind, I’d be even a little bit remotely upset? When I heard it was his voice and realized what was going on, would I be okay if there was nothing going on for me? Do you think I’m upset out of convenience— that I found a moment to make everything about me so I just took it? Is that the type of person you think I am?"

"What exactly are you saying, Jimin?" Hoseok eased off, taking a step back from Jimin. The flame in the older boy’s eyes finally seemed to tame a bit, but besides that he was still just as much blocked off and obviously angry as he had been moments before.

"I’m saying that I have feelings for Yoongi," Jimin blurted, the confession bringing a release of weight that had been pinning his body down and tying his lungs up in unrelenting knots. "Maybe I love him, maybe it’s just some schoolboy crush, but I have feelings for him. I— last night, when you weren’t there with Taehyung, he and I talked about it. Yoongi and I kissed yesterday when I was over at his place, and… I didn’t know if it meant anything to him, but it did to me. And then I came home and heard you two."

"It meant something," Hoseok’s words were clipped off, the color draining from his face. "He was so wound up, so upset… Jimin, it meant something to him. Trust me. I had never seen him like that before. I’m— _I’m sorry_. I knew it had something to do with you, but I didn’t push it. I didn’t want to try and find out what it was because I think a part of me knew that meant the end for me."

"Yeah, I don’t think so," Jimin shook his head, taking a step back towards the doorway, his body turning to leave the room. "If he felt anything like I felt for him, I don’t think his reaction would be to sleep with someone else."

"Jimin, I told you— it really wasn’t like that."

"I’ll be back around later, Hyung. I’m sorry, but I don’t even really want to look at you right now. I _can’t_ look at you right now."

 

* * *

 

Jimin stood outside of the familiar door he had opened so many times over the past year. The address was spelled out in the door with dull, white stickers that had started to peel off at the edges, no doubt due to the weather they’d seen during the many more years they’d stood station on the door. Though the main overhead light was off, Jimin could see Yoongi’s jacket tossed on top of the counter. He knew the older boy was inside.

Jimin could tell from the way that the lock was turned that the door wouldn’t budge if he pushed on it, so he reached into his pocket to fish out his keychain. In the dark, he counted each key from the edge, stopping at the third one in. He ran his thumb across the edge of it, feeling for the familiar pattern before he pulled his hand out of his pocket and pushed it into the lock. When he turned, it gave way without any resistance.

Yoongi had given the key to him a long while ago, but since Yoongi was there he hardly ever had to use it, often only exposing it to the lock when Yoongi was away from the shop and he asked Jimin to check on something or run an errand that involved entering the shop when Yoongi wasn’t there. Yeah, maybe Jimin would have normally felt creepy had he been using the key for his own personal gain, but the text from Yoongi changed all of that.

 | **Yoongi** _I’m at the shop. Please come over._

Jimin could hear rustling from the back room as soon as the sound of the door chimes died down. It didn’t take long for Yoongi to step out from the doorway of the same room, but Jimin took his time watching the door shut behind him before he finally allowed himself to look up at the elder boy.

"Jimin-ah," Yoongi pleaded, the name falling from his lips like a prayer that he had recited his whole life, begging for answers that still had yet to come. Yoongi looked just about as pitiful as his voice sounded. He still wore all the same clothes Jimin had seen him in that morning, save for the jacket that was thrown over the counter, though Jimin couldn’t entirely complain since he was also wearing the same gym shorts and raggedy shirt. He had spent the entire day walking around town, refusing to go home— _refusing to see Hoseok_.

"You look like a fucking mess," Jimin said anyway, trying to act as if he was unbothered. As far as Jimin was aware, Hoseok and Taehyung were the only ones that knew of Jimin’s feelings. There was no need for Jimin to also face public rejection, or even _hear_ the rejection from Yoongi’s lips. It was easier to pretend there was nothing, though Hoseok’s words haunted him for it. The boy was right, Jimin didn’t deserve Yoongi either.

"I want to explain everything," Yoongi went on, ignoring the comment. He knew Jimin was just deflecting. "I should have done it so much sooner, I know that. I _knew_ that before, I just… I was a little bit ashamed."

"You were ashamed that you were apparently capable of having a relationship? Don’t bother, that’s something everyone seems to have going on these days, Hyung."

"Hoseok and I aren’t in a relationship," Yoongi corrected. "What we have— no, _had_ going on was completely immature. It was just about sex. Yes, a long time ago we tried to have more, but we didn’t work."

"Have you two been together the entire time we’ve known each other?" Jimin asked, his voice minuscule and cautious as if the entire embodiment of his speech was retained to just the small circumference around him, almost as if he was even afraid to be heard or answered.

"No," Yoongi declared. "I swear— It hasn’t even happened that many times since it _did_ start. I can’t speak for him, but I was ashamed. I _am_ ashamed. No one wants to be that person that regresses back to their ex. Not to say that Hoseok is a bad person, I really don’t believe that he is, but our relationship wasn’t good and both of us knew that."

"Tell me everything. Please," Jimin nodded. Yoongi returned to him a small smile, offering his hand out. Jimin didn’t take it, but he did step around Yoongi to go into the back room. Yoongi followed him in, letting Jimin take reign of the futon while Yoongi settled in the desk chair. They stared at each other for a few moments before either of them spoke again.

"It was so many years ago," Yoongi finally started. "We had known each other in school, been friends with all the same people. We were friends, too, but we got closer after school. My parents put a lot of pressure on me. They wanted me to do 'something more' with my life than just this, and that probably was the first thing that put a lot of stress on our relationship. They weren’t… I wouldn’t say my parents were necessarily disapproving of my… tastes in people, especially since I am also attracted to women, but they’re never the most excited when my emails announce my new relationships with men.

"Still, they liked Hoseok. Called him my 'special friend' and all, let him come over for dinner, but they most certainly didn’t approve of my choice of a career in life. They said I should do something with more meaning, or at least something that had a better chance of keeping a steady income. I didn’t want to turn away from this, though, so they cut me off in a way. I’m still allowed to communicate, but I’m more like, the black sheep of the family now. I’m part of the family in legal matters and in emails and letters, but not in face value."

"So this was all before I got to town?" Jimin asked, asking for clarification.

"Yeah, he and I broke up a year before you got into town, I’m pretty sure. Sometime around then. We got together in his last year of school. I had finished a year before him, and then we dated for maybe a year and a half seriously, but the entire time I was working for this store. I had started working before I even graduated to get this store."

"Yeah, I know that part," Jimin breathed out. He wasn’t antagonizing him, just sorting the details out aloud, creating a space for Yoongi to provide correction should he be wrong.

"It was just, fuck, a really messy relationship. We lived in a different town at the time, but we planned on moving here together once I got closer to getting the shop. He auditioned for the dance company, and he got in. I had grown up around Baekhyun and Chanyeol who already lived here, and so we knew we’d have at least have them around. Things didn’t work in our relationship, but things in our lives were starting to. We got into a lot of nasty fights and eventually decided to break up. We didn’t split then, though. We wanted to be mature and to be able to co-exist in the same town.

"So we spent the rest of our time together before the move mending what was left of our friendship, and we moved here around the same time. Not together, of course, but we had gotten to a place that even if we happened to run into each other, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. It wouldn’t send either of us down a dark or twisted path, you know?"

"So when did things become more again?"

"Well, we ended up _not_ seeing each other. I was always here, he was always busy with the company. He made more friends, found you and all the others and you created this happy family together. Since that day we finally split paths, I didn’t see him again until after your recital when we went out to celebrate. You introduced us, but we already knew each other."

"Why didn’t either of you say anything?"

"I think I was more in shock, you know? Again, I can’t speak for him, but seeing him didn’t send me down that dark path. It sent me down a path that I hadn’t expected altogether. And just to be clear, I hadn’t planned on sleeping with him either. None of the times we’ve slept together since have been planned either. They just happen. _I_ didn’t even know what to think. I had no idea what to say to you."

"Do you feel anything for him?" Jimin looked down at his hands, so desperately wishing he could sink down small enough to slip through the cracks in the floor. "Does any part of you want to be with him?"

" _No_ ," Yoongi interjected. "I mean, I care for him as a person, but he and I aren’t even close friends. I’d _like_ to be friends with him, sure, but nothing more than that. Sleeping with him, every single time, has been a mistake. I won’t be doing it anymore. I felt dirty afterward every time, but seeing the look on your face this morning did something to me. Even if I wanted to sleep with him again, I don’t think I could do it without picturing that look."

"What look?"

"I can’t explain it," Yoongi shook his head. "Not now, at least. I wish I could, but I feel like I’m missing all the key puzzle pieces that would solve everything. I don’t know all the answers, all I know is that I never want to put that look on your face again."

Jimin nodded, finally looking back up from his hands, taking in a deep breath before asking, "Who initiated it?"

Hoseok had already explained some of this, or at least hinted to it, but he wanted to hear it from Yoongi.

"Last night, he did. The first, I did. The times in between was honestly a mixture of the both of us."

Jimin quickly tucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, clamping them down on a hold that was more than necessary to keep his expression and feelings under lock and key.

"Jimin-ah," Yoongi continued. "As much as I don’t want you to hate me, I really don’t want you to blame Hoseok. This is all my fault, and as much importance that you hold to me, he is important to you. I don’t want you to think this is his fault. Just, please promise me you won’t hate him."

"I don’t hate him," Jimin squeezed out. "And I don’t hate you either. I couldn’t hate you. I want you to be happy, Hyung. No matter who that’s with or who it isn’t with. I know you wouldn’t do anything to purposely hurt me, and I really don’t want to lose you."

Hoseok’s words kept repeating in his head. _It meant something to him. It meant something to him._

"I don’t want to lose you either, especially over ex-boyfriend drama. God, this is such a mess. _I’m such a mess_."

"No you’re not," Jimin chuckled, waving his hand out towards Yoongi, gesturing the older boy to come sit next to him.

Yoongi obeyed the silent command, forcing himself out of the chair to plop down next to Jimin on the couch. He gave the younger boy a look, his eyes asking a question that his lips couldn’t, and as soon as Jimin nodded Yoongi moved back enough to where he could lay his head down in Jimin’s lap.

Jimin’s hand easily found its place in Yoongi’s hair, his fingers slotting through the familiar strands as he asked himself the question that _his_ lips couldn’t.


	12. twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we're almost done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, FRIENDS. okay, so this is chapter 12, which means onLY TWO MORE CHAPTERS AFTER THIS??? AND IM SORRY IT'S BEEN LIKE, 3 WEEKS, BUT IM AN ADULT AND I HAVE COLLEGE AND WORK ALL THE TIME, but here i am with chapter 12.... and... and, i have almost all of chapter 13 written, except for the last scene, so i'll TRY and finish that after work today so i can post chapter 13 either tonight or tomorrow.

Jimin shut the front door behind him, his eyes instantly falling on the duffle back placed in front of the kitchen island. For a moment, he wondered if he had stepped back through some time warp, and he was now back in time to where Taehyung was moving out and he was given a chance to redo everything over, but the torn handle and fading color were easily recognizable. It wasn’t Hoseok’s.

"Hoseok?" Jimin called out. "Why is your bag out here? Please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

Jimin crossed the room to the hallway entrance, slowly making his way down the path to where the light was spilling out from Hoseok’s room. He turned into the doorway, only to see clothes and other belongings spread around, and the older boy stuffing a large suitcase that sat on top of a completely stripped bed. He looked around to see the pillows from it piled in the corner and the headboard leaning against the opposite wall, and his heart that had been tightened up in so many knots finally dropped to the pit of his stomach.

"You’re leaving?" Jimin croaked.

"Um," Hoseok mumbled, willing himself from looking up at Jimin. "Yeah, I think it might be for the best if I get some time to myself to figure everything out. I need a little space, and I think I owe everyone else a bit of space as well."

"Hyung— _Please_ don’t leave. I’m sorry I called you a slut, I’m sorry I said those things. Just _please_ don’t leave. I don’t want to lose you. I _can’t_ lose you."

"I know you’re sorry," Hoseok assured. "This isn’t some sort of punishment. I know you have feelings for him— I _knew_ you had feelings for him, and you were reacting how many other people would have reacted. I can’t honestly blame you for it all. I was the one who slept with him."

"Then if you know I’m sorry, why are you leaving?" Jimin pushed. "Do you not forgive me? Do you not want to be my friend anymore?"

"No, no. Jimin, I love you. You’re one of my best friends and that hasn’t changed. This isn’t a punishment for you. I honestly think I need a step back from everyone. I need to get my life into focus again. I need to—"

"Get over Yoongi? You have feelings for him, don’t you?"

"Yeah," Hoseok confessed, zipping up the suitcase as he spoke. "Or at least I think I do, but I _don’t_ want to be with him. I know that now more than ever. I just need to get him out of my mind. Plus, now that you’re both obviously figuring out how you truly feel about each other, I don’t want any of the mess in my head getting in the way. Please understand that. I want you in my life just as much as you want me in yours, I just don’t think living together is the best idea right now."

"Where are you going to stay?"

"I’m going to stay with Seokjin and Namjoon for a little while," Hoseok sighed, pulling the suitcase to the edge of the bed, shifting it carefully off the mattress before setting it on the floor, the weight of it causing a thud to be paired with the motion.

"Do they know?" Jimin blinked. "Do they know what happened?"

"Yeah," Hoseok nodded. "I explained everything to them."

"Do they hate me?"

"No, they don’t hate you. I mean, they know you called me a slut and all because I called them panicking after you left, and they’re kinda irritated about that, but they’re pretty much mainly mad at me for the whole situation. Oh, and Yoongi. They’re mad at Yoongi. They don’t think anyone should stop being friends, though. They gave me the idea to step back so they offered to let me stay with them until things die back down."

"So everyone’s still going to be friends? Do you promise?"

"Yeah," Hoseok agreed. "We’re still going to be friends. I just won’t live here for a little while."

"Okay," Jimin breathed out, restraining the break of emotions that threatened the edges of his voice. "I think I can be okay with that. Are _you_ okay with that?"

"Yeah, I think we both kind of have to be, right?" Hoseok forced a smile, turning his body to step towards Jimin. He lifted his arms in a slight extension, offering them out to Jimin with equal enthusiasm that matched the lazy attempt of a smile. "Can I hug you?"

"Of course," Jimin nodded, instantly raising his arms and stepping up to Hoseok.

 

* * *

 

"So, what hell happened?" Jeongguk called out, his head halfway in the fridge as Jimin laid his head on Taehyung’s shoulder from where they sat on the couch. "I just, I guess I missed a few details."

"Well, I mean," Jimin sighed, sinking into the comfort of Taehyung’s warmth as the younger boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Everyone’s still going to be friends, so that’s the main focus here. This isn’t some petty drama that needs to blow up."

"Of course," Jeongguk agreed, standing up straight with two bottles of water tucked between his left arm and his body, and a third clasped in his right hand. He stepped away from the fridge, hitting the door with his hip. He didn’t even wait to see if it closed properly before he sauntered into the living room where Jimin and Taehyung were gathered. "But I would still like to understand all the details."

Jimin looked up pleadingly at Taehyung, knowing the younger boy was able to make more sense of the situation. As many times as Jimin had gone over it in his head and with Taehyung, he still felt so out of touch with everything and everyone involved.

"Yoongi and Jimin kissed," Taehyung revealed. "A little under a week ago. It was super cheesy and all of that, and I don’t think either of them intended it to come off as anything more than just two friends kissing—"

"I’m sorry— _what_? 'Anything more than _just_ two friends kissing'?"

"Yeah," Taehyung snorted. "I know, ridiculous, but it is what it is. Anyway, Hoseok and Jimin and I were supposed to meet for dinner afterward, but Hoseok didn’t show up. Instead, Jimin and I spent basically the rest of the night just talking about a lot of things, Yoongi included."

"Did he finally admit he loves Yoongi?" Jeongguk raised his eyebrow. Though the question was directed at Taehyung, Jeongguk was looking right at Jimin, waiting for the eldest to answer.

"Not then," Jimin shook his head. "Not out loud, anyway. And I do love him, but I don’t know if I’m _in_ love with him. I know I have feelings and I would like a chance to explore that with him, but we haven’t had that discussion and… I just— I don’t want to get caught up in the romantics of it all. I don’t want to say I’m in love with him unless I’m completely positive that I _am_."

"You are," Jeongguk laughed. "But you’re right, that makes sense. You need to figure things out for yourself, and talking to him is definitely a place you can start."

"That’s what _I_ told him!" Taehyung exclaimed. "I told him he needed to talk to Yoongi about everything and that it didn’t matter whether they decided to be together or not, but talking was the healthiest thing that the two of them could do. It _is_ the healthiest thing they _can_ do."

"So you still haven’t talked," Jeongguk sighed. It wasn’t a question, just a statement heavy with aspiration and perhaps a mix of either frustration or disappointment. Still, Jimin nodded and turned his eyes to the floor, feeling a little guilty and out of it— out of _himself_.

"No," Jimin breathed out.

"No, because when he went _home_ that night, he heard Hoseok having sex," Taehyung explained.

"With the person he’s been seeing? What does that have to do with Jimin finally talking to Yoongi."

"Well, I mean," Jimin grunted. "I _could_ have interrupted Hoseok’s little… _session_ to ask, but I figured it’d be too awkward to have a talk about our feelings for each other, what with him being a little preoccupied with Hoseok’s cock in him."

" _What?_ No!" Jeongguk halted, his whole body and mind coming to a state of shock that he seemed to forget the plastic bottles he was holding. Jimin flinched as all but the one still in Jeongguk’s hand clattered to the floor.

Taehyung gave Jimin’s shoulder a squeeze before he pulled away from Jimin, leaning down to stretch his arms out far enough to grab the fallen water bottles. He gave Jimin a gentle smile as he offered one of them out to him, shooting his younger lover a look as he watched the processing work behind the film of his dark eyes.

"Babe, sit _down_ ," Taehyung insisted. "You know they used to date, it’s not that much of a shock."

"Yeah, _uh_! I think there’s a big difference between ' _used_ _to date_ ' and them actually having sex when Hoseok knows how they feel about each other! Shit, what about _Yoongi_? How could he be with Hoseok like that? No, how could he be with _anyone_ like that when Jimin— _Jimin_ , fuck."

Jeongguk suddenly jerked forward, moving to sit on Jimin’s other side. He set the water bottle down on the floor, reaching his arms forward to tug Jimin in towards his chest and away from Taehyung. He wrapped his arms around the older boy, his grip a bit too tight, but Jimin couldn’t tell if it made things better or if he was just too numb to care.

"It’s alright," Jeongguk mumbled. "I’m going to kill him— _both_ of them. You can still be friends with them, we can all still be friends with them, but it will have to be with their ghosts. I’m seriously going to _end_ them."

"Maybe death is a bit too extreme," Taehyung forced a laugh, patting Jimin’s back as he watched Jeongguk’s hold only grow tighter and firm. "And I am mad at them, and I am a little mad at you, too, you shouldn’t have talked to Hoseok like you did, but it’s going to be okay."

"Wait, why are we mad at Jimin?" Jeongguk pulled back, his arms still holding onto Jimin’s, but there was now an appropriate amount of space between them. "What did you say to Hoseok?"

"I may or may not have yelled at him a lot the next morning, and I may or may not have called him a slut. Leaning towards more of the ' _may_ ' on both of those statements," Jimin confessed, making it a point not to meet either pair of judging eyes.

"Okay, yeah," Jeongguk finally spoke. "I can see _why_ you said and did the things you did, but this is Hoseok we’re talking about. You two are best friends. You don’t say those things to the people you love, and I think your _friendship_ with Hoseok isn’t worth risking over you being upset with him and Yoongi having sex. Like, I do totally get why you did it, you don’t have to explain or defend yourself, but I really think you should fix it. Don’t throw your friendship away over something that can be easily fixed, Hyung."

"Yeah," Taehyung agreed. "You can easily have them both in your life if you put in the time and effort. Please don’t lose it all to your emotions. We all love you and we’re all here to help you. And if you do find that it’s too hard to be around either or both of them, then that’s your decision and we’ll respect that, but we don’t want to see you lose either of them."

"I don’t want to lose either of them," Jimin looked up. "And I mean that, but I think it’s just going to take a little time to fix everything, especially with Hoseok."

"Are you going to try and pursue a, uh… _relationship_ with Yoongi?" Jeongguk asked.

"I honestly don’t know," Jimin shrugged. "That’s honestly a little bit down on the list of things I’m thinking about right now."

 

* * *

 

The sound of the handle on the door twisting was followed by the slight grind of wood against wood as the front door was pushed open. The house, though cleaned up and in great standings, was built as part of a community project back in the days, and the front door had been measured incorrectly.

Though it functioned properly as any door should, it always needed a little more force than necessary to get it open. It was probably for the better. Anyone inside could easily hear the door opening from across the house, which was a massively good thing since it probably had been locked a handful of times within the past years.

"Jimin?" a voice called out. _His_ voice. The honey with a splash of freezing winters and blazing fires all mixed into one. It was as familiar to him as the faulty door by this point. He didn’t ever need a moment’s hesitation to figure out who it was. The voice was as familiar as his home. It _was_ home.

"Jimin? Are you home?" Yoongi’s voice grew closer, but Jimin remained still, curled up in the corner of the couch. "Come on, I have a business to run. I really don’t want to have to close shop every day to come here until the day you finally show up at home. Ji— _oh_."

"Jimin," Yoongi sighed out, relief obviously the dominant emotion swirling inside the elder boy as Jimin looked up to finally see him. "You know, you really should consider locking that door once in a while. I know it’s just me, but it could be someone else, and now you don’t have Taehyung or Hoseok here to protect you. We can’t have you getting hurt, now can we?"

Normally the comment would have made Jimin blush, or at least stirred up something within him that he’d have to fight desperately to keep from showing on the surface— something warm and _safe_ , with the promise of making a home in the pit of his stomach and the depths of his heart for the days to follow, but all it did now was remind him that he was alone.

He’d lost Taehyung to the growth of a relationship that reminded him of everything he didn’t, and _couldn’t_ , have with Yoongi; and now Hoseok was gone, a destruction brought on upon by his own jealous— no, _envious_ hands. Yoongi wasn’t Jimin’s for Hoseok to take.

That was the thing about jealousy and envy. Envy had a habit of tricking you into thinking something or someone was yours to begin with. It was a mischievous and tricky feeling that would disguise itself with empty hopes and hopeless dreams to the point where it demanded to be felt, but you’d blame it all on _jealousy_. At this point, Jimin was convinced that envy was as dirty as love.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbled, crossing the room to where Jimin was. Jimin dropped his eyes as he approached. Jimin forced himself to remain quiet. He stayed still, even as he felt the dip of the couch next to him and Yoongi’s brush against his back, fingers almost immediately digging into the muscles there. "I brought you this."

Jimin still didn’t speak, only looking down when he felt something placed into his lap to see a bright red apple now sitting there.

"I figured you could use something to eat right now," Yoongi went on. "I mean, an apple isn’t a meal, but it’s a start. Honestly— _no_. I just happened to have the apple with me. It’s my excuse to stop by and hang out, but you can have it. We can go out for lunch if you’re feeling up to it, or I can make you a sandwich if you’d like."

Jimin willed the corner of his mouth to turn up, forcing the gesture of a smile before his face fell again, and he reached into his lap to grab the apple.

"Jimin, can you please speak to me. I’m really worried about you. I want to help you so badly, but I need you to humor me a little. I get that you’re still a little pissed about me sleeping with Hoseok, and I’m sorry for not telling you, but—"

"I’m not mad about that," Jimin spoke, his voice strained and tired.

"You’re not?"

"No, I mean… I’m still not _happy_ about it, but I don’t think I’ll ever reach a point where I’ll think back on that night or even the _facts_ and be excited about it, but I’m not mad. Not about that."

"Then what are you mad about?"

"Lots of other things," Jimin leaned over, dropping his head to rest against Yoongi’s shoulder. _I’m mad that you wanted him and not me_. "I’m mostly mad at myself. I feel like I screwed up my chances with a lot of people and a lot of things."

"You haven’t lost me," Yoongi tried, his voice hopeful and Jimin’s ears rang with the smile he could hear through Yoongi’s words, but he couldn’t make himself turn to look at the gummy grin. "I’m still here, I promise."

"Yeah, but Hoseok isn’t," Jimin settled on. "And especially with Taehyung being gone, too. Now I’m in this big house with no one here to share it with. I mean, and the fact that _I’m_ the one left here doesn’t make sense. None of us even paid rent towards it. Hoseok’s parents own the title and they let us all stay in it as long as we kept up with being productive adults. I should have moved out, not Hoseok."

"None of this is your fault," Yoongi shook his head, guilt twisting in his stomach. "This is more my fault than anyone’s, I know that. You know that, too. I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that honestly wasn’t because of you. And for Hoseok, I’m sure you two will fix things. You’re such good friends and you love each other so much. This is just a little bump in the road, okay? I know you two are going to be just fine and he’ll move back in."

"That’s kind of hard to do when neither of us is talking to each other, though. We can’t fix things that way."

"The easy solution to _that_ is to talk to each other, Jimin. Come on, that’s an easy solution right there. You need to work on expressing yourself, I feel. You’re this strong, wonderful person, Jimin, but you give everyone everything they could ask for and more at the expense of yourself. You deserve love and happiness as well. You don’t always have to give, you should be able to take."

"What do you mean by that?" Jimin bit into his cheek, squeezing the apple in his hand.

"I mean that, like, you do this _thing_. This thing where you might want something, or _feel_ something, and I don’t know the entire process, but I think you might talk yourself into thinking that your desires are asking too much of everyone else. Like, if you want a french fry, but you don’t want to ask for it because you’ll feel someone else might want it. Or, you may like someone, but you don’t want to tell them, and not out of fear of rejection, because you know you’re hot as hell and the kindest person ever, but because you’re worried about how they’ll have to deal and manage _your_ feelings for _them_ , like your feelings are a burden."

"I don’t—"

"Jimin-ah, you know how you know me? Well, _newsflash!_ I know you, too. And like I said, I don’t know how _all_ of it works, and I don’t even know _why_ you’re like that, but you do it. It’s so, so selfless of you to do and it just goes to show how wonderful you are, Jimin-ah, but that’s _it_. It just _shows_. The act within itself doesn’t make you selfless and wonderful, it just proves that you are. You don’t need to keep proving when everyone already knows. For once you should let yourself be okay with what you want to do, alright?"

"Do you really believe all of that?" Jimin whispered, each part of his brain processing a different emotion and feeling. He didn’t quite know how to react, and he most certainly didn’t know which feeling to speak on or act upon. Everything going on was far too overwhelming, and even the healing words of Yoongi just threw him deeper into his state of confusion and momentary helplessness. "Or are you just saying that?"

"Park Jimin, I should pinch you just for doubting me. I may not always offer up all the information or details, and I know I’m not always the most chatty, especially when I should be, but you know the words that _do_ come out of my mouth are the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you about anything, especially something like that. Please never doubt my words, but most importantly, please never doubt yourself. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

"And how do you see me?" Jimin chuckled, though the attempt was half-assed and more of a choke on the cold air or a clearing of his swollen throat.

"I see you as a little brat fishing for compliments after I just fed you plenty," Yoongi rolled his eyes, moving his hand from Jimin’s back to swat the back of the younger boy’s head.

" _Ow!_ " Jimin wailed out, feigning further injury than what was actually caused as he pulled himself off from Yoongi’s body, leaning away from the older boy as he twisted his body to sit sideways on the couch. "Hyung, that hurt!"

"You’re such a fucking child. A little brat _and_ a drama queen. How in the world did I get so fucking unlucky?"

"Watch your language!" Jimin frowned, rubbing the back of his head to keep up his damaged act. "And what do you mean ' _unlucky'_? You love me, Hyung. Don’t even try and deny that."

"I won’t try and deny it," Yoongi snorted. "You’re right, I do love you." _I really love you so fucking much, Park Jimin_. "But I might kill you if I don’t get food in my stomach, so can we _please_ get something to eat? I’ll literally bite your arm off right here if I don’t get food. You don’t need both arms to dance, do you? No, I’m sure you don’t. See, I’ll get fed and you’ll still be able to make a living."

"Hyung, not only will you get fed, you’ll go to prison, where you’ll be fed for the rest of your life. And you know, it would take me some time to adjust to the loss of a limb, but I could probably get some fame and publicity from that, you know? I can see the headlines now. 'Young Genius Loses His Arm After Best Friend Eats It, and Learns to Dance Again'. I’m sure I’ll be a hit," Jimin snickered.

"I’ll _hit_ you if that counts for anything," Yoongi deadpanned.

"You’re really a terrible friend. You threaten cannibalism and physical violence all in the matter of thirty seconds. How am I ever going to tame you?"

"With food," Yoongi answered. "Literally, if you would quit your dramatics and pay attention to _mine_ , you’d hear me say I just want some fucking food to eat."

"How old are you again? Twelve?" Jimin grunted, gathering up the necessary force to push himself up into a standing position— though the real feat was in leaving the comfort of Yoongi’s body against his behind. "We have some leftovers in the fridge. We can eat some of those."

"Wait, Jimin," Yoongi rushed, reaching out to grab the hem of Jimin’s shirt. Jimin turned back to him, allowing Yoongi to reel him back in, stepping into the space that the older boy cleared between his legs. "You may not owe it to me, but I would really… _value_ your forgiveness. And, like, even if you give it to me now or at a later date, I want you to know I will never stop being sorry for hurting you or doing anything to disturb our friendship or your trust. I’m never going to stop regretting what happened, but above everything, hurting you is what I regret the most."

"What are you asking?" Jimin mumbled, looking down at Yoongi as the elder boy’s fingers fumbled with Jimin’s shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. "For me to forgive you?"

"Yes. And you don’t have to now, or even ever, but if you could ever find it within you to do so, it’d mean a lot," Yoongi strained, audibly swallowing a lump in his throat. Though Jimin knew better than to do so, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities to that of a kicked puppy. Jimin felt for the boy. Both in general and in this moment.

"You don’t even have to ask, Hyung. You know I love you. You have just as much right to my forgiveness as Hoseok has. If anything, I should be asking you for _your_ forgiveness. We’re…" Jimin wanted to say _We’re just friends_ , but he kept thinking back to what Hoseok had said, and how Jimin pushed away any hopes that Yoongi may have. And as upset as he was over the situation, all feelings for the boy still remained. He couldn’t bring himself to push Hoseok’s words away. "We’re— _you’re_ so special to me. And I know I’m special to you, but I didn’t have much right to be upset over something like that. No one has made promises not to have… sex with anyone. I can’t hold you entirely responsible for causing any negative feelings, because I know it wasn’t your intent."

"So you do forgive me?" Yoongi’s voice was still silent, _small_. There was no confidence. It was like that night so long ago under the street lamp, the memory as dim and dull as the light had been on each of their lips that night. Hoseok’s accusations made more sense now. Yoongi knew it, too. Yoongi and Jimin weren’t together, and only when Yoongi was being put in a vulnerable position did he lose all confidence and courage.

"Of course," Jimin nodded, trying to transfer the hope and light in his voice to Yoongi. He didn’t want to see the boy he loved so down and shattered. He dropped his hands down to where Yoongi’s remained, slipping their fingers into loose knots that each of them wanted to feel tighten and remain for a lifetime and then some, but for now all that took place was Jimin lifting the boy up to his feet, taking a step back to the kitchen. "You’re so important to me. Never doubt that, okay? It’s just as important for me to forgive you as it is for you to feel forgiveness. I don’t want to be angry at you ever, especially not now. I don’t want to be alone, but I especially don’t want to lose you."

"You’re not going to lose me," Yoongi shook his head. "And you’re not alone, don’t say that. You have me, and Taehyung, Hoseok, B—"

"No, _no_ ," Jimin chuckled, his laugh like the bells that hung from Yoongi’s shop door. "I know I _have_ them. I know I have friends and that they’re not going anywhere, I just mean in this house. No one’s here except me, and I don’t like looking at the empty place. All I see when I look around are spots where Hoseok and Taehyung used to leave their things or dips in couches and chairs where each of them used to sit. It’s a home that has lost its people."

"It still has you, Jimin. You’re one of its people, don’t forget that. You’re just as much of a person as Taehyung and Hoseok, and you have just as much meaning and right to the place as they do. You’re just as important. Hell, in my eyes you’re _more_ important, but don’t tell them I said that. Actually, fuck it. Tell everyone. I’ll tattoo it on my forehead."

"You know what I mean, though," Jimin sighed, his smile breaking through despite his words. "It’s not the same."

"Well, this might be a dead end question what with everyone that’s been moving out, but is there possibly any suitcases or boxes left in the house?"

"No, they’re all gone. Why?"

"Because you’re going to come stay with me. I have some boxes in my store, we can go get those and put some of your clothes and stuff into a box. I’ll sleep on the couch or something, it doesn’t matter, but I don’t want you to feel alone for a second longer. You can stay with me until everything’s fixed or as long as you want. It’s not optional," Yoongi declared, stepping right back up against Jimin, their chests inches apart as he halted his speech at the sudden change in Jimin’s face. "I mean, unless you really don’t want to… in that case, it is optional, but the offer is always on the table if you change your mind."

"No, I really want to— I mean, I _want_ to. That’s really a big offer, Hyung. Are you sure you’d be okay with that? I know I can be annoying sometimes and like, we’ve had sleepovers before and stuff, but never at your place and, like, that’s more than just a sleepover. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries—"

"Jimin, if you don’t stop talking immediately I will throw you over my shoulder and drag your ass to my place myself. You’re not annoying, you’re not a nuisance, and I’m more than okay with you staying at my place. You’re not crossing any lines, I’m offering you my bed and my company. Take it or leave it."

"I’ll take it," Jimin nodded, finally allowing himself to tighten his fingers with Yoongi’s.


	13. thirteen

"Are you sure you’re comfortable sleeping on the couch?" Jimin asked as Yoongi dropped a bag onto the bed that Jimin had managed to find shoved into the back of the closet hallway back at the house by the library. "You really don’t have to, you live here."

"Jimin-ah, in the entire time you’ve known me, how many times have you known me to _actually_ sleep in my bed? You know I tend to crash back at the shop. If anything, the couch here is more comfortable than that couch. This is an upgrade from my usual sleeping arrangements."

"That doesn’t mean _you_ have to sleep on the couch. I’m the one that got myself into this whole situation. I can take one for the team and sleep on the stupid couch," Jimin frowned, reaching out to grab the handle on his suitcase to drag it towards himself.

" _'Stupid couch'_? Oh, now you _definitely_ don’t get to sleep on it. You can have either the bed or the floor, you don’t get to use any of my furniture you call stupid. Fucking brat. I take you into my home and within minutes you’re insulting my home."

" _Hyung_ ," Jimin narrowed his eyes, a whine hovering over the edge of his voice. Even though he knew that Yoongi wasn’t _really_ upset with him, he played along like he usually did. Their entire relationship surrounded around the constant games they both played— the very games that seemed to have no apparent goal, nor a winner. "You know I don’t actually think that your couch is stupid. My point is that this is your home, you shouldn’t have to give up anymore than you have already."

Besides, neither of them believed the couch to be stupid. _That’s where they had kissed_ , and each of them hoping the other realized that fact.

"Look, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Whether you think it’s stupid or comfortable, I don’t give a fuck. You’re my guest, and though some could say I was raised harshly, I was raised with at least a concept of how to treat people," Yoongi snorted, pulling the suitcase back away from Jimin, preventing him from taking it out of the room as he knew the younger boy was planning.

"A concept of how to treat people? Hyung, you have improved drastically, so please don’t let this derail everything, but I think you might struggle a bit in the department of a _strong_ sense of hospitality. You tend to be a dick most of the times. You got, like, that whole 'bad boy' thing going on."

"Excuse you?" Yoongi quipped, his tone sharp and drowning in a clear and evident warning.

"No, like, in a hot way. You know, that typical jackass kind of vibe that attracts all the nice boys and girls."

"In a hot way… that attracts all the nice boys and girls? Jimin, you’re a nice boy. If this is your way of trying to invite me to sleep in this bed _with_ you, you’d have more luck just asking me straight up, you know. You don’t got to beat around the bush. There’s plenty of room for the both of us, and I’ve been working hard on my list of things to do to your thighs."

"See what I mean!" Jimin exclaimed. "You’re such a _pig_. I don’t know how you got anyone to sleep with you, let alone _Hoseok_. Did you pay him or something? Oh my— Is Hoseok having money issues?"

"You’re a brat, you know? I am capable of getting someone to sleep with me without having to pay them. I got 'that typical jackass kind of vibe that attracts all the nice boys and girls.'"

"Anyway," Jimin rolled his eyes. "I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed for all those nice boys and girls you intend to fuck. I’ll stay out of your way, maybe take a walk when necessary. Oh! Maybe we can have a code, like, if you have someone in there, just do the adult thing and leave a sock on the door."

"First of all, you consider a sock on the door to be an _adult_ thing?"

"It’s a pretty universal code, Hyung," Jimin defended, kneeing his way onto the bed to reach the duffle bag. Yoongi sat with him, pushing the bag closer to Jimin so he could open it. "Loads of people use it as a signal so no one has to unexpectedly walk in to see their friends in compromising positions."

"Okay, ew," Yoongi scoffed, his face screwing up in distaste at the idea of either of them being with other people. Both the idea of foreign hands on either of them forced his heart into the pit of his stomach— _'foreign'_ being any pairs of hands outside of this room.

"Look, it’s not anyone’s fault but your own that you don’t have friends or a line of people to sleep with you. You haven’t had to have to learn to do things to protect yourself from awkward positions like that. Maybe you need to get out more."

"Again, you’re a brat," Yoongi sighed, watching Jimin’s fingers fumble with the zipper on the bag. "Secondly, however, you don’t have to worry about walking in on me with anyone else ever again. I don’t think it’s fair of me to be doing that to anyone."

"You mean giving them the displeasure of having a go at it in bed with you?" Jimin teased, a loud laugh paired with it.

 _No, I mean it’s not fair for me to sleep with someone else when I have feelings for you_.

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded. "I don’t need to expose my ridiculously horrible sex skills to anymore people in the world. Now, what would you like to do for dinner?"

Jimin raised his eyebrow at the sudden change of subject, instantly pulling his hands back from his bags when Yoongi tugged it away from him and unzipped it himself. He clearly had grown impatient with Jimin’s sloth-like behavior and the time it was taking him to actually get unpacked.

"Oh," Yoongi continued. "Just in case it wasn’t clear, you’ll be sleeping in the bed."

 

* * *

 

"You have to go, Hyung," Jimin frowned. "You’re literally their best friend. If you can’t go for either Chanyeol or Baekhyun, go for _both_ of them. Plus, it’s Friday night. They sent out the invitations like a month and a half ago, and as the officiant you can’t just back out of it days before the ceremony."

"They do this every year," Yoongi grunted. "This is literally the sixth time they’ve done this, and that doesn’t even include the first time when they actually got fucking married. I don’t see why you would need to renew your vows all the fucking time. It’s not like there’s an expiration date on your promise to be together forever. I hadn’t realized that marriage was like renting a library book."

"You’re such a grumpy old man, and you’re the youngest out of the three of you. Show a little respect, Hyung. You know you love them both as individuals and together, and don’t even try and convince me that you don’t secretly idolize them and have a shit ton of respect for their marriage. You just like to complain."

" _You_ like to complain," Yoongi countered. "And, look, if you really think the whole concept is such a good idea, maybe you should just fucking be my date or something."

"Actually, I was already invited by them," Jimin grinned, pride in his voice at his announcement. He really appreciated how welcome both Chanyeol and Baekhyun had made him feel throughout his time getting to know Yoongi, and he valued them dearly. "I don’t need you to take me."

"Fine, _don’t_ be my date," Yoongi shrugged. "It’s not like I cared anyway. Just was trying to do something nice."

"Hyung," Jimin’s face dropped. "Do you want me to be your date to Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s wedding vow renewal ceremony?"

"No," Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing the plate around his food in protest.

"Well, what if I wanted you to be _my_ date?" Jimin offered, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched Yoongi’s tantrum unfold before his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Hyung, will you be my date to the ceremony?"

" _Actually,_ I was already invited," Yoongi shot back, a gleam falling over his eyes that didn’t meet his lips, but Jimin had learned how to read him long ago.

"Fine, I guess I’ll just have to ask someone else," Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But I just don’t know who I should ask."

"Shut up, you’re not taking anyone," Yoongi declared. "Neither of us are taking dates, we’re going together."

"Then you’re sleeping in the bed tonight," Jimin compromised. It’d been two weeks since Jimin started staying with Yoongi. They still fought over who got to sleep in the bed. At this point, they traded off. It was more of a chore to sleep in the bed than a comfort, even though it was awfully refreshing to wake up in the warm bed, though there came more warmth in the thought of waking up next to each other. "Glad we could agree that you’re coming, though."

"You, my friend, are a child," Yoongi dropped his fork in preference of crossing his arms. "I can’t believe I allow such a master manipulator to sleep in my home."

"Just think of it this way," Jimin leaned back forward, his forearms resting on the table. "This is very likely going to be the last time the last time they’re going to be able to do this sort of thing without children in the picture. Chanyeol was telling me that they’re pretty sure this lady is going to be selecting them for when her baby is born. Can you believe it? They’re going to be parents."

"I’m going to be an uncle," Yoongi groaned, dropping his head back as he uncrossed his arms to raise his hands to press the heels of his palms againsthis eyes. "I don’t think I’m ready for this sort of responsibly."

"Uh, well," Jimin chuckled. "The good news is that _you_ aren’t actually one of the parents, so it’s not about whether or not _you’re_ ready. I know, that’s a crazy concept to grasp, but apparently the agency’s main focus in placing children in good homes is more about the homes they’re going into and less about whether they’re grumpy friend is emotionally ready for a kid to be in the picture."

Yoongi scoffed, only edging Jimin on.

"I didn’t believe it when I heard it either," Jimin lifted his hands up in protest. "But I looked into it, and apparently that’s a real thing. Can you believe they’re just handing kids out to people who have friends who aren’t sure if they’re ready to be an uncle?"

"I changed my mind," Yoongi breathed in, dropping his hands back down to cross at his chest, his head tilting back down so his eyes could meet Jimin’s. "I don’t want to go to the ceremony with you. I just remembered you’re a fucking brat, and I don’t think that’s the type of company an uncle should be keeping around."

"You _just_ remembered?"

"You’re awfully bold tonight," Yoongi raised his eyebrow. "What’s up with you?"

"I don’t know," Jimin shrugged, standing up as he collected his dishes.. "I mean, I know I’m not in the ideal conditions right now, and I know not everything’s fixed yet, but I just have this crazy feeling that things are on the road to bigger and better things and I’m just incredibly happy. And also, I’ve been spending a little too much time around you, so me being happy is me being a child more so than usual."

"I’ll kick you out," Yoongi threatened, watching as the younger boy walked around the table.

"No you won’t," Jimin gleamed as he paused next to Yoongi long enough to lean down and press a quick peck against his cheek. "You’re late to work, you know?"

"I’m the owner, I make my own hours," Yoongi shot him a look, his skin burning from the ghost of Jimin’s lips haunting his skin even after the boy moved away from him. It was all too horribly domestic, but in the best sort of way.

"That’s no way to run a business. What are people going to think when they see your hours posted on the window, but they don’t see you inside? That’s not professional at all."

"I’ve been there basically every moment for the past six or so years. Excuse me if I start to indulge myself by spending time with the pretty boy in my apartment."

"Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I was a brat."

"You _are_ a brat, but you know damn well that I think you’re _very_ pretty," Yoongi explained, sitting up to grab his own dishes.

"No, you tell me I’m hot and that there’s this supposed list of things you keep of things you’d do to my thighs should you been given the chance. You don’t tell me that you think I’m _pretty_."

Jimin set his dishes down on the counter, reaching out to turn the faucet on and grab the sponge as Yoongi walked up behind him. He grabbed his empty cup just as Yoongi set his dishes down beside his own, and a moment later the brush of hands could be felt against his hips, and the curling of fingers digging into his skin.

"Park Jimin," Yoongi muttered, his voice silky and impossibly smooth, his breath somehow as gripping as his hands on Jimin’s body. "You are very, _very_ pretty."

And then his hands were gone, and by the time Jimin turned around all he was met with was the sight of the bedroom door falling shut and Yoongi was nowhere to be seen.

 

* * *

 

"Can we talk?"

Jimin turned around to face Hoseok, a shock sinking over his face before realization slipped in, and his expression was replaced with a simple smile. He nodded, gesturing towards the barres that were up against the back wall of the room. Hoseok followed him over, watching the younger boy stretch his leg out to the top barre.

"How’ve you been?" Jimin asked, his upper body folding forward to follow the angle of his leg. "We haven’t talked in a while."

"I’ve been alright, I’m still staying with Namjoon and Seokjin. I stopped by the house the past couple of days, but I must have just been missing you since you were never there."

"I’ve been staying with Yoongi," Jimin explained. "I got a little bit… uh, _upset_ over the whole staying-in-the-house-alone thing, so he offered to let me crash at his place until things were up and running again so that I wouldn’t have to be lonely."

"So you two are doing well?" Hoseok asked. "Are you…?"

"Together? No. We’re just— I don’t know what we’re doing, but whatever it is, it’s going pretty well.

"That’s good, I’m glad to hear it," Hoseok smiled. "Your flexibility is getting a lot better, I’ve noticed."

"I’m really sorry, Hyung. I was just— I was just so _angry_. I was so angry at myself for not having everything I wanted, and I was just being a toddler and throwing a huge fit, and I should have _never_ taken that out on you. I’m just really sorry, and I wish I could go back and fix it all, but I know I can’t. I didn’t mean any of those things, I just wanted you to hurt like I hurt in that moment, and that makes me a bad friend, I know, but I promise to try and be a better one."

"Jimin-ah, you were right. I was being so selfish, and I got caught up in sex and the thrill of an old fling, and it was wrong of me to put a few moments of satisfaction over your feelings that I knew existed. Just— _I’m_ sorry, and I need you to know what _I_ wasn’t thinking. I have as much reason to be asking for forgiveness as you, if not more. That was so incredibly wrong of me, and I’m pretty sure I broke so much of the Bro-Code."

"The— the _what_? Please never say that again, Hyung," Jimin groaned, dropping his leg, both of them swapping positions so that Jimin could lift his other leg up to the barre. "I’m so disgusted that you just said that to me. I’m going to have to consider never forgiving you for _anything_ just for that."

"What’s it that Yoongi calls you?"

"A brat," Jimin grinned.

"It suits you, fits you quite perfectly."

"So I’m told," Jimin snickered.

"So are we good?" Hoseok asked, hope in his voice.

"Yeah, we’re good. I mean, I still need a little bit more time, but I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’m getting rapidly better. And you should be getting better, too."

 

* * *

 

"You know, I act like I’m turned off by all of this love and romance bullshit," Yoongi grumbled, leaning against the wall as Baekhyun returned, an arm extended in offering with a beer bottled clasped in his hand. Yoongi nodded it, grabbing the bottle from him as he continued speaking. "But really, I want it."

"With who?" Baekhyun asked, turning to rest his back up against the wall next to Yoongi, watching their friends dance in the center of the room.

"Jimin," Yoongi declared.

"You want Jimin?" Baekhyun laughed. "Why all of a sudden?"

"It wasn’t sudden," Yoongi shook his head. "I mean, I wasn’t always _romantically_ attracted to him, but I always found him hot."

"Uh, I think I can speak for all of us in stable and healthy relationships when I say there’s a little bit more to a relationship than ' _finding someone hot_.' Is there more to it?"

"Yes, you asshole," Yoongi snorted, lifting the bottle up to his mouth, his teeth catching on the end of the cap before he pushed his jaw up against it, popping it off. " _Anyway_ , I always have been physically attracted to him, but the falling in love with him came later. He stands up to me, but he stands _with_ me, you know? And I can’t speak entirely for him, but I like to think he’s been teaching me what it’s like to be loved, and during that whole time I have been learning to love in return.

"I get this feeling, you know? Like, when he walks into a room, I just want to grab him and hold him forever, and— I just feel so at _home_ with him."

"Is that why you let him come stay at your place?"

"I just wanted to spend more time with him," Yoongi shrugged, knocking back a sip of the beer. It was stale, he didn’t much care for the taste, but he needed something to burn out the desire of Jimin that clogged up his throat and threatened his ability to breathe. "I mean, when I think of being in love with him, that’s completely selfless. I’d go to the end of the universe for him, all he’d have to do is ask, but when it comes to spending _time_ with him, I’m greedy and guilty as sin. I want him in my bed, and not just in a sexual way. I want him in my presence, I want his hand in mine. It’s disgusting, really."

"Why didn’t you listen to any of us when we _told_ you that you were in love with him?" Baekhyun laughed, pausing to take a sip of his own beer. "I’m sorry, I just find this funny. We’ve literally been spending a million years pointing this bright, neon sign to the facts, and it was always met with a laugh or you getting mad."

"Probably sounds cliché as fuck, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I never felt deserving of him. I didn’t want to face rejection or something. At first, I didn’t even think he was single. 'Figured maybe he was just using me as some self-help concept of bettering himself through bettering others, and that was kinda irritating at first, but then I realized he actually wanted me around, and by _that_ point, I had already been too much of a dick to him to try and earn myself a chance."

"Your chance is yesterday, this morning, tomorrow, _now_. As long as he loves you, you have that chance. You know he loves you, right? Like, please listen to me. Don’t brush me off like you’ve been doing forever when it comes to him. He’s in love with you. Do you know that?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded, taking another sip as his eyes narrowed in on Jimin’s face from across the room where he was dancing between Chanyeol, Hoseok, and Jeongguk. For a moment, their eyes met, and Yoongi only grew more confident in Baekhyun’s words. Jimin did love Yoongi, and Yoongi knew it. "But that’s not what matters. I still don’t deserve him."

 

* * *

 

"Shit, Jimin. That’s my fucking leg, be careful," Yoongi cursed as he felt the stabbing pain of a foot kicking against the space above his ankle. He turned around, his face meeting the weary pout placed on Jimin’s face. Yoongi sighed, helping the boy regain his balance before guiding Jimin through the doorway, the younger boy stumbling behind him in a ruined attempt to keep up.

"I can’t believe you actually got this drunk," Yoongi grumbled disapprovingly as he managed to worm his keys out of his pocket in time as they approached his apartment door. "Be still."

Jimin stepped into Yoongi, his arms wrapping around his elder’s waist, latching on in a solid hold as he worked his nose up against the skin in the crook of Yoongi’s neck. He breathed him in as Yoongi tried to make minimal arm movement as he unlocked the door, not wanting to jar the drunken Jimin from where he stood — _not that he would have pushed Jimin away if he’d been sober_.

"You’re such a beautiful boy," Jimin whispered, his warm breath curling up into the enclosed space Jimin had made between his lips and Yoongi’s skin. "I know you always tell me how much you like my body and face, but you’re just as beautiful — probably _more_."

"You’re so fucking drunk," Yoongi spat out, pushing the door open as Jimin only stepped closer. He wasn’t angry, though. Not at Jimin — _never at Jimin_. He didn’t move, and Jimin’s arms only tightened around him. Yoongi knew Jimin worked out a lot, but he had never given too much thought to how it would feel to have Jimin’s strong arms so tight around him, holding him in place. He was sure that should fail them, Jimin would have enough strength to keep him from floating into space.

Yoongi’s right hand didn’t leave the door handle, the younger boy’s hold on him causing him to pull the door back towards then. Yoongi seemed to forget that they were supposed to be going inside, his eyes falling shut as the brush of warm, plump lips dragged against where a cold nose had been moments before. He brought his left hand up to grip Jimin’s forearm wrapped around his stomach, his fingernails digging into the skin there in what Yoongi told himself was an attempt to pull the younger boy off him, but he only found himself pushing Jimin’s arm tighter against him and tilting his head to the side, baring his neck more to the younger boy as more kisses were left in the first’s wake.

"I don’t care," Jimin sighed out, daring to shift his body closer to Yoongi, inching to step in front of the older boy. His lips didn’t leave Yoongi’s skin, and had Yoongi not had been as drunk off of Jimin as Jimin was the alcohol, he probably would have given a second thought to letting Jimin kiss him and hold him like this with the stinging taste of alcohol clearly in the air, but Jimin was as steady with his hands and lips on Yoongi as he was with his feet during a performance. "You’re beautiful."

Yoongi let him go on, the occasional snapping of lips echoing through the dim hallway. It reminded Yoongi of the soft lulls of a soft acoustic song playing through the speakers in his shop. He dropped his right hand from Jimin and his left hand from the door handle, sucking in a deep breath as Jimin’s hands relocated to grip at Yoongi’s hips. His hold was tight — _too_ tight, and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel the unspoken desire for more from Jimin, but it was far more than he was ready to give.

"Jimin," Yoongi tried, his hands falling completely still at his side, tugging on what he hoped was a psychological bond they shared — and whether it truly existed or not, even drunk, Jimin instantly detected the sudden detachment and strain coming from Yoongi. His hands eased off, still keeping in place as he lifted his head and stood up straight.

"Sorry," Jimin smiled sheepishly, waiting for Yoongi to make the next mood. Yoongi’s limbs started working again, and he raised his right hand up to Jimin’s face, his thumb stretching out to brush against Jimin’s plump bottom lip for a moment’s hesitation before he swiped his thumb up to the corner of his mouth, tugging it up to force his lips into a greater-defined smile.

"It’s okay," Yoongi reassured, laughing a bit at how goofy and hopeless Jimin looked. "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

"Yeah, Hoseok, he’s in bed now," Yoongi mumbled into the phone.

"Are you _sure_?" Hoseok asked from the other side of the line. "He was pretty drunk, I don’t want him getting hurt. Things just got good again."

"I put him in there myself," Yoongi confirmed. "I’ll go check on him again if it’ll make you feel better though."

"Would you?"

"Are you serious? I _literally_ left the room two minutes ago. I’m sure he hasn’t suddenly woken up in the twenty seconds since the last time I walked by the room, gotten dressed, and crawled out the window in his drunken state. Hell, I don’t even think he knows how to _open_ that stupid window. If he managed to do it, then I’m gonna need him to come back to teach me."

"Hyung, you should really get that window fixed, you know? Especially now that you and him are together. You may need to… _air out_ that room sometimes."

"We aren’t together, Seok. He’s just living here, and we don’t do stuff like _that_. I may be into him and he may be into me, but we aren’t about sex, you know. Not every relationship has to be established on s—"

"So there _is_ a relationship?"

"I don’t think you’re the person I should be talking about all of this stuff with. I mean, are you okay? We haven’t gotten the chance to speak about it all. I never got to apolo—"

"Hyung, we don’t have to do this. We both made some stupid decisions, but now we can just move on, alright? Neither of need this conversation, and frankly I don’t think either of us _want_ it either. We’re friends, can we just leave it at that?"

"Yeah, kid. We can leave it at that."

"Good, now can you _please_ go check on Jimin?"

"Jesus," Yoongi muttered, pushing himself off the counter he’d been leaning on. "I’m telling you, he’s definitely okay. He’s gonna have a huge hangover in the morning, but I made him drink some water and I got him to eat like half an apple, so that should help a little, right?"

"I’m so glad Baekhyun and Chanyeol are the ones getting a kid right now and not you."

"That’s so rude, Hoseok. What the fuck?" Yoongi frowned as he approached the cracked door to the bedroom. He was beyond careful when pushing it open, making damned sure not to wake Jimin up. Not that he had a lot of experience with drunk people, but he didn’t think it would be a good idea to wake someone up who was in dire need of sleeping off an excess amount of drinking.

"I just mean right _now_ , Hyung. One day you’ll be ready to have kids, like, if you _want_ to have kids one day, but we both know it’s not your time yet."

"Can we just focus on me getting into a relationship first?" Yoongi chuckled, raising his left fist to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. "I mean, who knows. I might raise a kid on my own one day, but I definitely would prefer to have someone by my side."

"Jimin’s right there, Hyung— and I _know_ you don’t think you deserve him. I haven’t done much to reinforce anything that says otherwise either, and I know I’m a little out of place to be talking to you about him, but you do love each other. I know you’ve both figured that out by now, but now it’s time for you to realize that you deserve each other. You bring out the best in each other, Hyung. We all know you two would be very happy together?"

"I don’t deserve a happy ending, Hoseok," Yoongi sighed, turning back out of the room.

"You deserve that and more, Hyung. Please stop being so hard on yourself. You want Jimin as much as he wants you, and you turning him away is going to _hurt_ him as much as it will hurt you."

"I don’t know," Yoongi trailed off.

"Okay, then one last question," Hoseok cleared his throat. "One more and I’ll stop harassing you about it."

"Okay, shoot," he replied, pulling the door firmly shut.

"What’s more important to you? His happiness and _your_ happiness, or the slim-to-nothing risk that he’ll just say no?"


	14. fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'M FINALLY DONE
> 
> 2\. sorry, college finals were a Pain. highkey stressful
> 
> 3\. i would like to discusss the fact that the title of this fic is based of a hozier song called "someone new" and while writing this chapter, i was looking back at the first chapter of the fic and i read where i wrote that jimin said he wanted to try "something new" and that made me mad for like half an hour because i made a pun over 9 months ago and i just now realized that i did that.
> 
> 4\. enjoy. PLEASE KILL ME, I WANT TO DIE

The dull sound of a voice muffled through a thin, dark door with chips of paint scattered all over stirred Jimin from his sleep. It was the morning after, Jimin was sure of it. Though the curtains were dark and didn’t bleed light into the whole room, there was a thin line along the floor where the material hanging from the window managed to keep the morning’s light trapped to.

He laid in bed, letting the aftermath of his night of drinking sink in as his headache only flourished to life at the realization of his awakening. The more he thought about it, the worse it got.

He tried to focus on what was being said on the other side of the door. It was a conversation, or at least _half_ of one. A phone call. In his sickened state, he managed to hear his name— _Jimin._ And then another name— _Hoseok_. Somewhere along the line, the door was opened, but he was neither focused or well enough to grasp the entirety of it.

He tried to piece it together with the other bits that slipped through, but held himself captive beneath the warm comfort of Yoongi’s duvet that was all too seducing right now, releasing a spell on him that made it impossible to deny.

_"I don’t deserve a happy ending, Hoseok."_

Jimin heard it. Jimin understood it. Jimin did not agree with it.

The door shut again, and Jimin managed to reach out blindly towards the nightstand. He wasn’t sure if his phone was there, but he was too tired to look beforehand either way— and _oh_ , was he grateful when he felt the cool touch of metal and glass beneath his fingers. He gripped the phone, preparing himself for the bright light he knew was to come as he turned the phone towards his face. He never hated technology so much.

Relying on muscle memory, he shut his eyes and punched in the code, swiping his fingers across the screen in ways that he knew would get to the brightness settings. He only opened them once again after he felt it was safe, only peeking one eye open to test before he trusted himself enough to open both eyes fully.

It was five in the morning. Was Yoongi really the type to have self-depreciating conversations at this impossible time of day— especially with _Hoseok_. The beginnings of jealousy began to twist up, already threatening to swallow him whole, covering him more thoroughly than the thick blanket atop him ever could, but as quickly as it started it disappeared once again.

"Jimin’s happiness is the most important thing to me, Hoseok. It actually is. Mine comes second to his— and my _pride_ hardly even exists, so what’s the need in prioritizing that?"

Yoongi was talking about him— _Jimin_ . He was having a conversation with Hoseok about him, at five in the morning while he was a door and a few yards away from him. Why could Yoongi talk about Jimin with everyone _but_ Jimin?

Averting his attention from the notifications that flickered across his screen, he locked his phone and forced himself into a sitting position, threatening the binds of the promise of warmth the blanket provided. Though his raging headache was against it, his body was well-practiced in the art of fluidity and he managed to get his feet flat against the floor and his legs working to pull him across the room, the blanket and its heat being left behind.

He didn’t wait for the obvious conversation to end. The game had already been going on for far too long, and it was time for it all to reach its destination. He gripped the handle, twisting it open to find himself met with the back of Yoongi’s head. The older boy quickly turned to him, pulling the speaker bit away from his mouth as he took in Jimin standing before him.

"Jimin-ah, what are you doing awake? It’s early, you should be getting some sleep."

"I don’t want sleep," Jimin shook his head. "I want to talk to you."

"Hoseok?" Yoongi sighed, pulling his phone back to his face. "Yeah, he’s awake. I’ll call you back later, okay?"

Jimin walked up to Yoongi, his smaller hand slipping around Yoongi’s free arm, pulling further away from the bedroom.

"Alright, bye," Yoongi rushed, making quick work of hanging up the phone call and shoving his phone into his pocket. He followed Jimin blindly, only protesting once Jimin’s feet steered toward the door.

"Jimin-ah, where are you going? We don’t need to leave my apartment to talk. There are plenty of spots to talk here."

"I don’t want to talk here," Jimin protested. "I want to talk somewhere else."

"Well, where do you want to talk? What’s wrong with talking here?"

"Nothing’s wrong with talking here, but I just don’t _want_ to. It’s always about what _you_ want, okay? And I get that, you have every right to focus on things you want, but now it’s _my_ turn, because you honestly do a shit job of it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi groaned, more confused than focused on a defensive state. "Fine, we can go talk somewhere else, but you need to put some more clothes on, and maybe a pair of shoes."

"I don’t _need_ to do anything I don’t want to do, Yoongi."

"Honorifics," Yoongi got out, working solely on trying not to laugh at Jimin in this state. "You still need to respect me, even if it’s an 'All About Jimin' day."

"My apologies," Jimin rolled his eyes, turning to face the older boy. "I don’t _need_ to do anything I don’t want to do, _Hyung_."

"Good boy, much better," the praise was small, but the fire in brewed underneath the layer of Jimin’s skin was not small. It was dangerous, threatening every bit of his sanity with everything from the word choice and the tone Yoongi insisted on using during times like this.

"Don’t talk to me like that," Jimin narrowed his eyes. "I don’t want you to."

"Alright, what _do_ you want?"

"I want you to, uhh… get me some shoes, and a hoodie. Please?"

"As you wish," Yoongi nodded, pulling his hand from Jimin’s so he could slip back into the bedroom to grab the necessary clothing items.

 

* * *

 

"Where are we going, Jimin-ah?"

"Your shop," Jimin responded, his voice uninterested as he kept his hands shoved into the pockets of Yoongi’s oversized sweater. It wasn’t even that it was too big on Jimin, it was too big for the both of them, a clothing style that Yoongi insisted on for the majority of his sweaters and shirts.

"So we can talk in my shop, but not my apartment?"

"Yes," Jimin nodded. "See, now you’re getting it."

"Okay, well if we’re going to my shop, might I suggest a shortcut?" Yoongi tried, fully prepared for the irritation of the younger boy to lash out at him, but it never happened. Nothing happened. "Jimin, you’re not even going the _usual_ way. You’re taking the longest route to get there. We’ve literally walked all over town, Jimin. It’s past _six—_ "

"We’re going my way," Jimin interrupted. "Just let me do it my way, please."

"Alright," Yoongi nodded. "We’ll do it your way."

"Thank you," Jimin breathed out, the morning air so cool that a pool of fog rested at the edge of Jimin’s lips as air spilled out. Yoongi was so busy staring at the boy’s lips that he didn’t notice the hand twisting in his own. He looked down to feel fingers locking with his, and he paused to look back up at Jimin, a puzzled look on the elder’s face, no doubt.

"We had to go to the other side of town so that I could walk the way I took the first day," Jimin explained, his voice finally losing the aggressive edge it had been holding all morning.

"The first day? What do you mean?"

"The first day I met you," Jimin clarified. "You know, back when it was raining."

"And you ruined my floors," Yoongi chuckled. "Yeah, I remember. Is there a specific reason why you want to take this way?"

"Yeah," Jimin nodded as they finally turned onto the block Yoongi’s store was on. They were only a few doors down now.

"Are you going to share that reason with me?"

"I want to rewrite it," Jimin shrugged.

"What?" Yoongi slowed, causing Jimin to do the same. "What do you mean _rewrite_ it?"

"You know, like, redo it. Change it. Make it all different."

"Why in the world would you want to do that?" Yoongi raised his eyebrow, a thin layer of panic seeping into his voice. "What’s gotten into you?"

"Nothing’s right, Yoongi. I want to do it all again to make it right. There are things I feel I should have done differently, and I want that chance. Even if it’s just for today. It’s what _I_ want, okay?"

"No," Yoongi shook his head, stopping in front of his shop. He didn’t make a move to unlock it, and neither did Jimin. They just stood there, staring at each other.

"Why not?" Jimin froze, trying to pull his hand away from Yoongi’s.

"I like how we met, Jimin," Yoongi strained, his hand gripping tighter onto Jimin’s. "I wouldn’t change how we met in the world for anything."

"Not for anything? Not even for me?"

"Jimin, it’s _because_ of you that I wouldn’t change it. Why would you want it to be different? What is it about us that you don’t like? Am I being a dick to you again? If that’s the case, you can just tell me. You don’t have to go through this whole ordeal of 'rewriting' things just to get me to clean up my act again. If I’ve said or done something to screw things up, _tell_ _me_ so that I can make an effort to fix it. You shouldn’t feel the need to go back in time to _change_ me. If something needs to be different, tell me."

"It’s not a matter of changing _you_ , Hyung. I need to change _me_."

"I love how you are, Jimin. What makes you think that you need to rewrite any of yourself for me?"

"I just—" Jimin paused, growing all too aggravated again. He yanked his hand from Yoongi’s, taking a step back before he could do anything about it. "I just want…"

"What do you _want_ , Jimin? Are you seriously still drunk? Come on, I’m getting you back home," Yoongi stepped into the space between him, holding his hand out for Jimin to grab, but the younger boy just slapped it away.

" _Jimin_ ," Yoongi hissed. "What the fuck?"

"I don’t _want_ to go back there."

"Then tell me what the fuck you want, Jimin. I’m standing here, asking. You’re not telling me. I can’t read your fucking mind, alright? Don’t get pissy at me for not having some supernatural fucking powers. Just tell me what it is, and we can work from there. Don’t drag me around town throwing some huge fucking fit, when all you have to do is use your words and say it. Spit it out, Jimin."

"I want you to be in love with me," Jimin spilled out, speaking so fast that his words blended together with the heavy volume of air his lungs were breathing in. It was all one big blur, but they both understood it.

Yoongi heard it. Yoongi understood it. Yoongi did not agree with it.

"You want me to be in love with you?"

"Yes," Jimin pleaded. "I don’t get what’s wrong with me that makes you not want me back like I want you, so I want to rewrite it all. That’s why."

Then Yoongi was laughing. Jimin stared on in confusion, but it didn’t take too long for concern to sink in. He couldn’t tell what Yoongi was feeling right now. There were too many layers of glass pressed between them— each layer providing a slight fuzz between the bond between them, but each of them as fragile as the one before it. It wouldn’t take much to bring them all crumbling down, but in doing so brought on the threat of someone getting cut in the process.

"You want me to be in love with you, Jimin?" Yoongi dropped his offered hand, reaching into his pocket instead to grab his keys. "You want to rewrite this so I’ll fall _in love_ with you? Alright, Jimin. Let’s go through that night, let’s go through it all."

Yoongi turned towards the door, his long, bony fingers unlocking it in jagged motions. His jaw was locked, his posture so tied up that it looked painful. Still, he pushed the door open and reached out to grab Jimin. He dragged the younger boy into the door.

"You came through this door, we know that. It’s the only fucking door. The bells went off, right?"

The bells had already gone off when Yoongi opened the door, so he reached up to strike the bells with his fingers. "There, that’s the bells. You’re not wearing a coat, so you can’t do that. Let’s take this sweater off, then, yeah?"

"Yoongi—"

"No, you’re the one that wants to redo it all. Up until here, you hadn’t done anything that made me not fall in love with you, so I think it’s safe to take this off, right?" Yoongi spat, reaching down to grab the hem of the sweater, his hands moving roughly up Jimin’s body to get the sweater over his head. Jimin lifted his arms to help, but remained quiet besides that.

"Then you said 'Hi', so go ahead and say that. You gotta participate in this if it’s going to work, Jimin. Rub your feet on the mat while you’re at it. Your feet are wet, remember?"

"Hi," Jimin muttered underneath his breath, Yoongi obvious anger weighing down everything. His feet felt heavy as he dragged them on the mat.

"You can hang your _coat_ there," Yoongi pointed to the hook, holding the sweater out to Jimin with his free hand. "That way you don’t get all of my floors soaked with dirty rainwater."

Jimin stared at him, waiting for the next instruction— or Yoongi to start yelling at him. Yoongi stared back, unable to loosen the strain among his jaw or any other set of bones or muscles. Yoongi took a step back, giving him the space to move from in front of the door.

"Now go on," Yoongi encouraged. "Walk around. You went to the back shelf first. You picked up the—"

"Hozier album," Jimin walked over to the shelf along the back wall where he knew where it was, in the same place it was the first day he picked it up. He pulled out a few albums, checking to find the right one before he pulled it out and looked back at Yoongi.

"Do you live nearby?" Yoongi asked, just like he had the first day.

"Close enough," Jimin muttered, trying to recall the conversation from so long ago. "I don’t mean to waste your time, I’m sure you’d like to go home. I just wanted to try something new, but I don’t know very much about music."

"Close enough," Yoongi nodded. "Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll just crash on the couch in the back as soon as you leave, most likely."

Yoongi finally walked over to where he was at the shelf, also not even bothering to look at it like they’d both been doing that night. "Do you have an idea of what you’re looking for? I can help you find something, maybe."

"Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t recognize any of these names," Jimin recited. "This is an American artist?"

"Hozier? He’s from Ireland, I’m pretty sure. That’s folk pop that you’re holding right there. Do you like western music? All of the records along the wall are from western countries."

"I have no clue. Honestly, I’d have a better chance at picking something blindfolded and liking in than trying to pretend I know what any of this is and hoping I like it."

"Well, I mean, you can try something. If you don’t like it, you can bring it back."

"Yoongi, what’s the point of this?" Jimin shook his head, sliding the album back into its place.

"Exactly, what _is_ the point of this? If you want to go back in time and redo it all to make sure we follow the steps for me to 'fall in love with you', we’re just going to be reliving every moment we’ve taken up until _now_ , Jimin. I don’t want to redo it all. Everything, the good and the bad, has brought me to you. It has _kept_ me with you. I’d rather spend our time defining the _future_ than trying to redefine the past, Jimin."

"What do you mean?" Jimin whispered.

"I mean that you can’t make me be in love with you, Jimin. I already _am_ in love with you, you insufferable little brat."

"I— _what_?"

"Were you not expecting that? Were you that _blind_ to that fact? Oh, I’m sorry. Are you not a mind reader, either? I hadn’t _realized_."

"I don’t know what I thought. I guess maybe you just wanted _parts_ of me," he trailed off, leaving it with a tone that sounded more like a question than anything.

"Parts of you? Jimin-ah, I want _all_ of you. It’s been like that for a long time. You can’t just— even if I _didn’t_ feel that way, you wouldn’t need to go back in time to fix it. You and I, I feel, has been something that has always needed a platform built. We needed— _need_ a foundation to stand upon. And yeah, maybe we haven’t exactly done things the _right_ way, but… Honey, there _is_ no right way."

"Then why haven’t you done anything about it?" Jimin asked. "Why can you talk about me and your feelings _for_ me with everyone _but_ me?"

"Why haven’t _you_ done anything about it, Jimin? It’s not any one person’s fault. We’re two people here. And frankly, I don’t give a fuck about who did or didn’t do what, because either way I have gotten to spend all this time with you, and falling _in love_ with you. It’s not like we spent all this time apart. We don’t have to be together in title to have meant something to one another. I wouldn’t change anything.

"I wouldn’t have even changed being an asshole to you. Even though I’m sorry for it, at this point I wouldn’t go take it back. Everything, every little moment or conversation, no matter how big or small has put us here where we are now. If you want to change that, then _that’s_ what we can go back in the past for, but if it’s me being in love with you, you already have that."

"So, you do want to be with me? Like, in every way?"

 

* * *

 

"Yoonji, where are you?" Jimin called out, pretending not to see the girl as he walked past her hiding under the dining table. He walked around it a few times, pulling out the chairs from underneath the table to give the girl more space and to reduce the chances of her hurting herself on one of the chairs. By this point, the entire house had been baby-proofed for years, but that didn’t mean Jimin wanted to risk anything. Still, he avoided making direct eye contact with the girl, wanting to indulge her at the little game of hide-and-seek.

"Darn it, I can’t find her _anywhere_ ," Jimin muttered, half to himself, but loud enough to where he knew Yoonji would hear it. The small sound of her laughter erupted from underneath the table, the sound of Yoongi’s feet pattering into the kitchen soon following.

"Can’t find who?" Yoongi asked. "Tell me you didn’t _actually_ lose Yoonji again."

"We were just playing a game," Jimin explained, nodding his head towards the dining table. "And she just happens to be _really_ good at it. I’ve looked all over the whole house, and I can’t find her."

Yoongi knelt down, leaning his head to the side to get a peek under the table, standing right back up once he saw the hem of her dress next to the leg of one of the chairs.

"You know Baekhyun and Chanyeol are going to be so upset if they don’t get to see their girl tonight. I just got off the phone with them and they were telling me how excited they were to get to see Yoonji. They’ve missed her so much on their trip, but if we’ve lost her they’re going to be so, so sad."

"That’s right," Jimin agreed, both of them turning to direct their voices towards the table. "And you know, if we find her after they already know she was lost, they’ll be so mad at us. They’ll never let Yoonji come over to see her Uncle Yoongi or Uncle Jimin ever again. That’ll just make us so sad if we never get to see her again either."

"Oh no," Yoongi frowned, his disappointment overly exaggerated for the girl’s amusement, earning him a look from Jimin.

"You’re so bad at this," Jimin chuckled, his voice low enough so the girl wouldn’t hear.

"Oh, like you’re any better. Threatening a little girl with never getting to see us or her parents again when you could just look underneath the table and say—"

"No!" Yoonji cried out, scurrying out from underneath the table, easily staying safe from banging her head on one of the chairs. "Here I am, here I am!"

"Oh, there she is!" Yoongi gleed, reaching down to scoop the girl up just as she pulled herself onto her feet and reached up for the older man. "I was so worried I’d never get to see you again."

"Me too," the girl frowned. "I can see you again? And Uncle Jimin?"

"Yes, baby. You can come see us as often as your fathers will allow."

"Do you promise?"

"I pinky promise," Yoongi smiled, shifting the girl to his hip so that he could raise a free hand out to her, his pinky lifted into the air. The girl smiled, wrapping her whole fist around the finger, pulling it to hold it against her face. She had never fully grasped the concept of how a pinky promise was supposed to work, always settling on grabbing the finger in its entirety instead and pressing it against her face, but he was too far gone for her to ever correct her.

"I want one," Jimin sighed, staring at Yoonji longingly.

"Can we please make it through our wedding first? It’s next weekend, I think you can give me a minute to make it through that alive before you start hurdling kids my way."

"You’re literally holding a kid right now," Jimin laughed, leaning in to press a kiss to Yoonji’s forehead before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "How would you like to have a cousin, Yoonji? Would you like to see your uncles have a baby together so you could have someone your age to play with?"

"Yes, please! Will I get to see them all the time?"

"I’m sure you would, Yoonji," Yoongi nodded, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi. "But it might be a little while, okay? Babies take a long time to make, okay? Don’t get too excited."

"Oops," Jimin grinned. "How close are Baekhyun and Chanyeol?"

"They said they were almost to the neighborhood when I got off the phone with them, so maybe less than ten minutes," Yoongi answered. "Yoonji, would you like to get all your pictures together so you can show your fathers when they get here?"

"Yes!" she grinned, letting go of Yoongi’s fingers so he could put her down. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was off running towards the bedroom where her stuff was already packed into her suitcase.

"I love when she comes to visit," Yoongi sighed. "But don’t tell anyone that."

"I love you," Jimin chuckled. "But you can tell everyone that."

"You already beat me to that," Yoongi scoffed, looking back at Jimin just in time to see him step closer. Yoongi held still as Jimin’s hands fell to his hips, leaning his own hands back against the counter to help Jimin lift him up onto the counter. Jimin had always been stronger than him, and Yoongi had always had a thing for sitting on counters.

"Don’t forget we’re supposed to meet the construction manager tomorrow for lunch. We’re finally going to nail down these plans so we can work on opening the new shop."

"How could I forget? It’s _my_ shop that’s getting a second location."

"We’re getting _married_ , Yoongi. Isn’t it time to start practicing the 'What’s mine is yours' bit?" Jimin laughed as he set a hand to rest on top of Yoongi’s thigh.

"Let me have my shop for another week," Yoongi frowned. "I’m being robbed of my bachelorhood and income all within the matter of one weekend. I deserve the week to myself."

"We’ve been dating for like, five _years_. How could you possibly still consider yourself a bachelor? We _live_ together— in _this_ house. We picked out these countertops you’re sitting on together."

"I’m right, you’re wrong," Yoongi shrugged.

"Fine, you want the week to yourself?" Jimin laughed, already withdrawing from the elder boy. "Enjoy the spare bedroom on your own."

"No," Yoongi rushed, locking his feet around the backs of Jimin’s thighs. "Stay."

"I always do," Jimin grinned, sliding both hands up to Yoongi’s hips as the older boy slid his right hand up the back of Jimin’s neck, his fingers finding a grip at the hairs that grew there. There was a moment’s pause between them, where every leftover bit of glass and debris was removed from between them, and they then finally the air, too, was replaced with the feel of one pair of lips against another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M REALLY FUCKING HAPPY I FINISHED THIS OKAY IT'S FINALLY OVER


End file.
